It’s not that I mind being alone,
in fact I enjoy it,
which I think you knew
all too well.
It’s not that my heart is broken
or that I can’t go on,
’cause the truth is
it’s not, I have.
It’s not that things didn’t work out
or that we went our separate ways
or that I was wrong and you were right
or I was right and you were wrong.
It’s that the way your hand,
felt in mine
was like being home
by the fire
on a cold winter night.
What it Is
Published
Autumn Siders 