feet up on the metal chair outside the corporate coffee chain
we both proclaimed to hate
i rode past you on my bike and caught your eye
which shifted with your body into alertness
i didn’t miss you then, remembering
how happy your eyes could be and how warm your voice
i still believe you aren’t afraid of anything and that’s why
i adore you
but it’s all right even though you’d rather not see me
and your cold breath left impressions all over my room
embrace the process, said no one,
but i realized anyway
every happy ending is just a memory the next day
so is every night that something real becomes too real
suffocating you
i still don’t blame you
between all the books you tried to explain to me
and the ones i tried to explain to you
the missed glances that meant something only to you
the ugly crying i couldn’t keep you from seeing
i’ll make it through some way or another
but every time i see a figure in black
or remember my body in its totality
i can’t help but think of yours
the feelings come back every now and then
and they don’t feel great
but i’d rather be unmoored,
drifting in a sea of the residue
you left behind
than weighed down by some fake anchor
Aug 13, 2018
Aug 13, 2018 at 12:01 PM UTC
feet up on the metal chair outside the corporate coffee chain
we both proclaimed to hate
i rode past you on my bike and caught your eye
which shifted with your body into alertness
i didn’t miss you then, remembering
how happy your eyes could be and how warm your voice
i still believe you aren’t afraid of anything and that’s why
i adore you
but it’s all right even though you’d rather not see me
and your cold breath left impressions all over my room
embrace the process, said no one,
but i realized anyway
every happy ending is just a memory the next day
so is every night that something real becomes too real
suffocating you
i still don’t blame you
between all the books you tried to explain to me
and the ones i tried to explain to you
the missed glances that meant something only to you
the ugly crying i couldn’t keep you from seeing
i’ll make it through some way or another
but every time i see a figure in black
or remember my body in its totality
i can’t help but think of yours
the feelings come back every now and then
and they don’t feel great
but i’d rather be unmoored,
drifting in a sea of the residue
you left behind
than weighed down by some fake anchor
Request permission to use this poem