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Cogito

Maybe one day you will know
That I never stopped writing you,
I merely stopped (sharing).

I feel empty, even incomplete,
Without the words and verse that
Celebrated (my love) for you.

I stopped not because the
Words or feelings were gone.
I stopped because those words

Only lived when read by you, for
Whom they were written. You
Seem no longer wanting to hear my

(Same) thoughts (of love) expressed
(Repeatedly). You and I are different:
I never grow tired hearing that

I am loved. Each time I hear
Those words, they grow for me.
And each time I said them to you

My love grew. Maybe for you
They felt like pressure. For me,
They felt like pleasure that knew

No boundaries. No limits. One day,
With the passage of time, you may
Come to realize that pressure

Is not what others do to us. It’s
What we do to ourselves when
Confronted by something new.