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J M Surgent Feb 2017
It's funny to remember
You loved someone;
The feeling foreign,
Awkward in hand,
Rotting in a way,
But beautiful in yesterday
Or week
Or month, or year -

A decade even -
So far
But not too distant
To remind you
To stay far enough away.
J M Surgent Feb 2017
I used to love
When you and I
Got too drunk to speak
And watched the stars
From my bathroom sink
In well-lit Boston
Because
Imagination is important
In times like these.
J M Surgent Mar 2016
I fell in love at 17,
19,
21,
22,
23
23.

You’re pretty
Beautiful,
In the way you
Speak
Walk,
Talk,
Look at me,
And all our friends
Who spectate
Agree.

What I need
Is to live, learn
And love
A time where
The only lies
I tell
Are to myself,
Alone
In the confines
Of a simple life.

It’s not fair,
To let you into
A mind,
Heart,
Life,
That may not be
Capable of truly
Letting your heart
Reside
Anywhere
Close
To
Mine.

It
Will end
With a broken heart,
Guaranteed.

I can’t
Even let
You start.

My apologies.
J M Surgent Mar 2016
Have you ever
Mixed memories
With what you wished
They could be,
Creating a fictional
Reality
Blended together
Like bitters and whiskey
Vermouth and a cherry,
The Manhattan of your dreams.
J M Surgent Dec 2015
My words may sound similar,
Though my pen bleeds aged ink.

I am no longer the devil you once loved.
J M Surgent Dec 2015
It’s amazing.
I had it all,
And watched as it all fell apart.
Unaware
Of how it would feel,
Running through my fingers
Like sand lost in time,
The memories I have
Barely forgotten.
J M Surgent Nov 2015
When I was a child,
I was given a silver necklace by my father,
Told the stories of how it was there when he met my mother
And cherished it dearly.
But as childhood would have it,
I lost the necklace,
In a full contact game of two-hand touch football,
In the backyard of my frenemy neighbor.
I searched for hours in the grass,
Coming across spiders, quarters
The remnants of dog’s passed,
But never again saw the silver chain
With the little cross
That was the closest thing I ever held to God.
Now I look back,
To the necklace, the touch football games
The neighborhood loving brawls,
And realize youth is an object,
It’s something we hold close
But never realize the importance of
Until years later,
When we miss it
Around our necks,
And we regret
Never truly
Falling in love
With what we had
Before it was gone.
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