The Process

I forgot what it was like;
This feeling of love.
You brought it
To my attention,
And yet there's no sign
Of your stay.

No traces are left,
But the tears on my cheek.

My words falling
Upon deaf ears.
Begging on my knees,
To no one that is near.

How for once I wish
To not write of heartache,
Nor of all our mistakes.

They shouldn't be bothered,
With what we've done.

But I beg for their praise,
Their thoughts
On my creations.

Only to realize,
My devastation.

They do not approve.

Erased from the Internet,
Deleted from my folders,
Another paper burned.

The process tedious,
But I'll try again.
To write of what we do.
Maybe even tell them
That we've managed to mend.