Tangled together like rope,

Your head resting on my arm and my fingers in your hair

Lying on the cold wooden deck.

I can still close my eyes and see you there.

The circles you rubbed on my wrist,

I can still feel your touch lingering on my skin.

And if I weren’t so damn proud

I think I could almost just give in.

No one could ever compare to you

There’s no chance that I could ever love another.

Five years past and still trying to let go.

Farewell, my almost lover.