How can I own the morning
A piece for questions with one answer.
There are words that my ears want to hear, even if my heart can tear.
Into pieces.
When we were the happiest, I wondered who you saw. When we eat breakfast and kiss each other’s goodnight, is it my lips that you feel? Is it the bread that I burned that you ate?
When you feel sad and I hug you, is it my arms that you feel? When you’re anxious and I hold your hand, is it my hand that you want to hold onto?
There are so many questions that I still hope to ask you. But my eyes are too afraid to see the answers, even if you didn’t say a word.
I don’t know how I can compete. How can I be complete?
If I replace her chair with mine, would you help me?
If I wanted to go to a café where you used to meet her, would you feel heavy?
If she wasn’t your past, would you like me differently now?
When will it be my turn to be the one you see without any resemblance to her? Will I get the answer to all of these questions?
Because I want to start my day with you. But how can I own the morning if I can’t rest the night with you?
How can I own the day?
If you still like her in the morning.
Written by Seenicaetoh
