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Box full of letters
i cleaned out my closet the other day
and i found a box of all your things i never threw away
how could i they reminded me of better times
of how simple your first love can be
how innocent it can be
we were just teenagers writing love notes back and forth
and i still have everyone of them in the box of memories
you could tell the story of or relation ship if you put them in order, from the blissful beginning to the bitter end
and in all of them you sais that you would "always love me"
i wonder how true that it is now
years after everything i still read your notes
and wonder where you are
hoping you never moved on
and hoping that no one ever treated you better
wishing you sat in a tiny cramped apartment with a half dozen cats by your side smelling of urine
and just barley getting by
you said that you would always love me
and i guess you lied
maybe im a little to sensitive
maybe i am a little to vengefull
but in all reality
how could i not be when i'm the one still in love
and your still the one that left me.
