I decided to write you something for each day that I refrain and abstain from communication. Its a difficult thing to admit; we didn’t work. But I miss you, maybe that will pass I have a feeling it will probably maybe last forever.
We go from being leaves on a tree, to robins in a London garden. Dissipating kisses over the southbank. I want to be like those books at the book market, touched by many - bought by none.
I will remain inherently the same but the corners will be changed. So while I sit around and peep through the clouds to another day, I have the soft reminder that my heart is happy.