There are those people who
Never seem to care about the things
That I find so important,
Like friendship, and family,
And loyalty, and trust.
Perhaps it doesn't bother them
Because they are accustomed
To seeing things in that way,
That way that people are simply
Dispensable, replaceable, interchangeable
Not so special or unique,
Just faces and voices to fill empty spaces.

I’ve been holding my breath
too many nights in a row

Trying to move onward
but my progress is slow

I keep thinking I’m fine
that I am finally sane

But then I catch a glimpse
and I relapse again

You’re like a drug to me
an endorphin injection

I remember the past
our affection—perfection

But now you are not here
and that brightness is long gone

I see from a distance
exactly how you moved on

I don't know why I'm still waiting.

   It's clear to me that you aren't interested anymore…

   So why am I still holding to that last thread of hope?

Why can't I move on,
                                   improve,
                                                  be happy?
It seems like you have.

     Everyday,
                   I fight back the urge to call you or visit you
                                                         tell­ing myself that if you wanted to talk to me,                                            you would.

I’ve tried treating you the way you've been treating me. I think to myself,

"What if this time, I don't say 'hi' first?
  What if this time, I don't call you back?
  What if this time, I leave you wondering?
  What if this time, you're the one left feeling completely ******* over?"

So I try it for a while…


Sometimes I get the feeling

      that you will never make the effort,

          that you will never call

               that you will never care

                    that you will never miss me

             so I break down and I call you.

          And you greet me like you’ve missed me

       And you treat me like you like me

    And you make plans with me

But they never happen.


You’re promises are just lies

******* in pretty bows

And.
          I.
             Can’t.
                        Trust.
                           ­        You.

I go to graveyards whenever I can
Not to mourn the death of those I've known and loved
for they are buried far away
No; I go so that I may remember
Remember those who have gone before
Remember that life is fleeting
Remember that someday I will join those buried.

I ignore the big graves; the showy, fancy ones
I ignore the ones with flowers and trinkets as well
they do not need visitors
they already have all they need and want.
I visit the graves that are small and simple
the ones with faded words, overgrown with moss
These are the ones that have been forgotten,
these are the graves of the average man, woman, and child
The ones who led average lives, like you or me
the ones you would see on the bus, in the park, on the street.
These graves are those of the working man
the shop keeper, the pastor, the laborer
the ones that affect our everyday lives and leave the most impact.

I visit these tombstones because no one else seems to ever come
I try to decipher the name and dates on the faded headstones,
But often cannot
The moss of time has grown over them,
The letters have been worn away.
Maybe if someone came regularly to visit, to sit, to think,
The moss would not cover
The wind would not wear away
Time would not destroy
So I visit, hoping I can make a difference
Hoping I can help preserve
The graves of the long forgotten.