What If Poem by Agatha Eliza

In the pocket of my old coat
I've found a lost love note,
a heart-shaped locket, remnants of
an expired red lipstick
a handful of sand, and some wilted petals.

The lines were crooked; the letters
barely hang on to each other
refusing to form, word after word, sentence
after sentence..
way below, several ink blots, and stains
your name...and the rest is history.

"Oh! Those bitter, hurtful words! " I sighed
What if the "past" is just another
forlorn country, across the vastness of oceans?
Or perhaps, partly chartered
covered in the fog of distant memories
of volatile, passionless kisses
where we, the hopeless romantics, get our souls
tangled in alluring strings of idle embraces?
No shadow song could move me, but this
voice of yours which keeps echoing
in my last love poem, and your last love note.
I'll throw these tiny relics away, no longer
useful to feed the flame of a fire long dead.
As we walked on separate paths, the bridges
are no longer there, all the boats are gone
the harbour's closed, and our island
gradually sinks under the water.
The world with you disappears.. and surely,
No...I'm definitely not going back to that.