September

I know it is too early to write you a poem. Somehow, I just want to write something about you. I don't want to keep suppress this feeling anymore. I need to let it out.

I just wish you would be here and say, "Thoughts on anything? I'm here to listen."

There are so many things that I want to say. So many feelings that I need to let it out. And I just need you to come back and be here again.

I used to hate when you call me using that particular nickname, and now I miss it. 

I miss everything the way it used to be.

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