The Chapter in between

How much can I say before I forget? As each piece is given, how many pieces have I taken back? How many have I been given back?

Sometimes, I wonder am I the only one still standing here. Like at a bus stop on a windy day. Perhaps I’m not waiting for the bus to take me away. Perhaps the bus had already taken everything else away. Myself? Maybe. There isn’t a bus stop anyway.

The fact years have passed in between, and I still feel the way I do, can I say I’m just sentimental? I could live without these sentiments?

What if the bus comes back for me? What would happen to this bus stop if I went away?

Have you ever sat down and kept your mind on me? Selfish thoughts?

Let me say perhaps all I’ve done was so that you would have kept me in your thoughts. Isn’t that what we all crave. What I’m so scared is that you just keep me as someone in the past. What would happen to me at the bus stop if it all blurred away for you?