i cannot feel my legs
and my poems stay unread.
it takes two hours to loose myself
and a lifetime to find her again.
i look for her in dark bookstore hallways
fingers across the shelves,
picking up pieces of other people,
trying to reclaim the ones i gave away to you.
i shouldve known you wouldnt have remembered.
i shouldve known you would let me hang up.
we end our phone calls without i love you's,
yet you always say goodbye.