All of the Things I Want to Tell You

 

I’m trying to find my way home through the fog,

Through the dark without a light,

You are that empty house on the hill

I long to return to.

Your attention burned like a summer heat,

Now I’m left in the winter

That I didn’t mean to bring.

You had a magic in the words you told,

You brought my dreams to life

and now I’m face down among the ashes

Of my burnt out heart.

 

I have watched you grow through the seasons of the last year,

And I watched you out grow us.

What I would give for another chance of Autumnal hope.

And eagerly await the bloom in Spring.

 

K. Thwaites

 

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