If there were words

It's been a year since I've seen you last;

The memory wounds still fresh from the past.

I know I should want to see you,

But secretly I don't want to.

If there were words to make you feel,

If there were words to make you heal,

If there were words (words of change);

But there aren't.

Nothing but a distant and stone cold heart.

I still think about you and always pray,

But I always struggle to find the words to say,

because what is there to say to someone who doesn't listen and doesn't care?

Someone who lives but isn't truly there?

I'm not sure.

But if there were words to make you feel,

If there were words to make you heal,

If there were words (words of change);

But there aren't.

Nothing but my bleeding heart.

So, I'll take it all and turn it into art.

Because I'm a poet and that's what poets do;

I'm just holding on to that someday where we will no longer be colored blue.