Every new writing of yours gave me joy
Each brimming with so much love
I used to eagerly scan through them,
Read them over and over again
I placed myself at the center of each,
Linking them to little memories of us
And smile coyly for what they meant
Only later did I realise the miserable fact
That none of them were ever about me..
Yet each one of my writings including this,
Was about you,
Is about you,
And will be about you!