yet there is nothing left to say
Only things I have heard before
Like a washing machine left on the same setting.
I feel horrible for feeling it
but notice I haven't missed you. At all.
And it makes me sad for what once was.
But only for a moment.
I rather rejoice in what is, then what is in the past.
Everything has it's own time. This time is mine.
I wish you well and am now saying goodbye.
Feeling blessed with everything given to me.