I'Ve Stopped Writing Poems About You Poem by Benjamin Hickmott

I have long since stopped writing poems about you
So please don‘t think that I still care
Forgotten is the taste of your soft, sweet-salty lips
And the scent of your enchanting silky hair
As I pass the myraid scenes of our liaisons
I no longer have to think about you
Recollecting on the passion of our merging and caressing
And the pangs of my heartstrings as I withdrew
Recuring pains, of parting anew

That‘s okay, go your way, I have nothing more to say
lt doesn‘t bother me that we are through
If life‘s grey, every day, and will likely stay that way
At least I don‘t have to think about you

I stepped back, to give you room to breath and talk
But it seems now you had nothing to say
So we drifted far apart, out of touch, out of reach
I assurne because you wish to stay this way
I now doubt that I held much of a meaning for you
A small passing roll in your life
Just another prop, in a theraputic break
To help extend your garne of man and wife
Fidelity, cut free with a knife

That‘s okay, go your way, I have nothing more to say
lt doesn‘t bother me that we are through
If life‘s grey, every day, and will likely stay that way
At least I don‘t have to think about you

I was rnissled to belive, each tirne I sank into your eyes
lt was intimate, wanton, but mutual
If now I looked there, I‘d not be surprised
To see a stranger, more cold than neutral
I can take it, as I said, ‘cause I no longer care
Really, you no longer cross my mmd
When I reread your old letters, I no longer feel sad
Its lack of sleep, not the tears that make me blind
To look ahead, not just behind

That‘s okay, go your way, I have nothing more to say
lt doesn‘t bother me that we are through
If life‘s grey, every day, and will likely stay that way
At least I don‘t have to think about you

I‘m never going write another poem for you
Like so many times before
I‘ve gone and lost the urge to think about you
Like so many times before
Oh why, oh why must I think about you?