Think of me?

OK, so I admit, I may not be the most loyal,
that you have ever seen.
I may not turn up at your doorstep, with roses to
show how I feel.
I may not pamper you on your birthday, with petals and
love songs.
I may not always be the first to remember the day
when we first met.
Nor will I be the first to compliment you on the way your hair is different,
Or your make-up,
Or your clothes,
But I see these things, and what matters the most is that I may
not be the one that shows the most excitement,
But I am the one that cares the most.

I know it must be hard to you to understand,
and to believe me, but I swear it on my love,
No nuance of lies has left my mouth when it comes my affection,
for you.

Alas, all happiness has passed, and these words are no longer effective.
The time has long passed when I could say these and more to prolong
our feelings.
Maybe if I had started to notice the fraying ends of our blanket of hope,
Then I could have tied together the loose ends with the golden thread of the truth.

All that is left of that blanket is one strand, which was both the beginning, the middle...
And the end.
And as I look at your strand of hair, and at the desruction around it,
At the broken glass.
At the blackened photoframe.
And at the burnt place we once called home,
and
I wish, with all my heart,
that wherever you are,
you think of me.