I will write 7 things that I could never say to you, did we imagine it all or was it really true.
The day we parted ways I knew it was gone, the thought of 'us' still lingers although it was mutual to move on.
You are a constant struggle of the heart one embedded in time, ever so close yet never mine.
Indeed life has other plans, maybe you come later or maybe just decline.
I will remember you with wine and cheese, cold winters and rustling trees.
These conversations in my head I'll keep them here, I might end up saying something loathsome in fear.
I know you're hurt from this just like me, the loyalists love each other even after setting each other free.