Been So Long

Been so long since we met,
poetry, my dear friend. 
Been so long since we met. 

Been so long since my fingers traced paths on a keyboard, 
pouring my thoughts out, 
storing them in an abstract medium. 
Been so long since that happened. 

Did you miss me, my dear friend? 
Did you miss turning up
at the quiet corners of my mind
and holding my hand understandingly? 

I didn't miss you, my dear friend. 
I didn't miss you a bit. 

Now, don't think I'm ungrateful, 
my dear friend. 
I'm far from it; 
you'll soon see for yourself. 

There's a reason we were closer, dear friend. 
You visited often to bridge the gap 
between me and my then muse. 
You visited often to numb the pain, 
to soothe my heart, and heal my wounds. 

You, my friend, sprang from my heart
to let my muses know they were admired. 
You, my friend, didn't feel like it 
when destiny had smiled and the universe conspired. 

The nightingale sings, my dear friend, 
when it yearns for a heart that sits afar. 
Singing with hope is all it can do.

Is it fair to expect a song, my friend, 
when another nightingale sings the same tune 
and captures the heart with ease? 

I didn't miss you, dear friend,
for I haven't been singing from afar. 
I didn't find the need to sing, dear friend,
for I've been busy loving.