When I disposed of your red notes
that you used to write about me,
my head was littered with thoughts
of what we could potentially be.
But those thoughts soon became scattered
as the wind caught them into flight
and words that may have once mattered
were blowing out of mind, out of sight.
That's not to say I didn't care
or that I got rid out of hate,
I just no longer needed them there;
what I needed was a clean slate.
Soon the wind will bring back a slip
that contains the password to my heart,
I can only hope this wont rip
and that its words will not depart.
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