Broken

We act as if our history never happened. It did. We act as if our talk, our words have gone. They haven’t. We act as if we never touched. We had. We act as if we don’t think of each other. We do. Our yearn is alive, pulling, pushing. Our moments, our wants. Our laughing lives, Our “I get you more than you get you” seconds breathes with my lungs. We act as if we have seven years. We hope. We act as if we will hang out together. We want. We act as if we’re not broken. We are. We act, but, really, we are broken, Bro…B…R…O… broken.