The hair that I first saw you with.
It was like a flame
And I was looking for heat.
I always feel the urge to talk about you. Maybe the more I talk, the less I’ll feel. But it’s like you haunt me. I once shared my entire being with you. But it just feels a little pointless now, doesn’t it? You crushed me.
I wonder if I ever cross your mind, running the intersection of your thoughts. Do I get bulldozed by a car? Or do you tentatively wave at me, beckoning me to come closer? Do you ever wonder what would have happened if we stayed in each other’s lives? Do I sound like a heart-sick fuck?
I don’t know.
Did you know that I read something I know you’d love? Did you know I threw out your poster? Did you toss away my art? (It was pretty good.) Did you erase me from your life? Was it easy for you? Was it something you had been pondering? Maybe it was. “The Beginning of the End” we were.
We just didn’t know yet.
Your eyes were (I guess, are) these huge orbs
That just wished to know
I spilled them all to you.
You welcomed them with open arms
Until they overflowed
You didn’t have the
To pick them all up.
So you kept a few in your back pocket.
To remember me by.
I am now
Someone in the back of your mind
That appears sometimes
But it becomes less
And I’m okay with that.
Or at least
I’m trying to be okay with it.
It’s hard when all I remember are warm embraces and shared smiles.
I still try to reach out
But my hand only meets cobwebs.
And maybe we were never truly
Okay, I’m exaggerating.
But it feels like that.
It feels like I can’t get off this ledge
Of wondering about
When I’m desperately seeking to share something
I look to find you
And then remember
Fuck. I forgot. She’s not here.
Read more: Poetry: ‘Her name was not clementine’