Has anyone else noticed
that we
date with the
caps lock on?
Yell loud
of love
posting pictures
perfect
poses, smiles
gleaming with
hope
all over.
Shoving happiness
down our friends
throats.
LOOK AT US.
Look at this.
How we
dance in the
light of
intimacy
and laugh
at the hand of God,
declaring
immunity of
his wish for us
ever to separate.
All because
the
contents of
tomorrow are
something
we don't know.
And the ignorance
inevitably
breeds karma.
Expectation is
toxic.
Sleep inspires
evaluation.
Is this
really
what we want?
An eternity of
being
wrapped up in
sweaty sheets?
Is this love??
Sunrise awakens
a predetermined
separation.
Distance,
the space
now put
between you two
is silent
and untouchable as
love slips
away
anything but
slowly.
A decision
never even communicated.
And then
the phone doesn't ring
after work
like it always did
which
sets the tone
for
the rest of forever.
And forever was
supposed to be
together but
now
it's shattered
with pieces missing,
so you wonder
if you are whole
at all
or if you
were
maybe
always a half.
Sort of
incomplete
development
from the get go,
wonder
if you filled
your life with her
just so you
weren't so empty.  
If
the hole
you feel
in your stomach
when the
wind blows
is
where her hand
used to go,
so she stole
that part of you
completely,
thinking
you'd hurt less
if there
wasn't muscle to
hold the memory
of her touch.
Wonder
if she
walked out
on the forever
because her fate
changed its mind
last minute
like she
always did
while ordering food.
And
you think, nine times
out of ten she
ate half of yours because
hers was no good.
So
you wonder if
sometimes
she feels
the way you do.
If she misses you.
If she made the
wrong decision
and
she gets hungry for
honey.
Or if,
he keeps her full.
If the wind
plays with her hair instead.
You wonder
if it was you.
Undesirable.
Second best.
No, last place.
Worst in show.
The words
echo
repetitive
in your quiet room.  
The words
knock the breath
right
from your chest,
you can't breathe.
She only
thinks of you
as a
sick memory.
A regret.
She spits
angry words
at the love letters
she keeps
only
with old news papers
to put
under the litter box.
To start fires.
To pack boxes.
You wonder
if there's still
a little
love, if
she just
forgets about you.
So insignificant
you're like a red light.
She just waits for
you to be over
so she can go on with her day.
You hope
that the light might
break.
That it will stay red
and she might
rethink everything
while she
sits there stuck on you.
If she misses you.
You wonder
if fate makes mistakes.
But it doesn't.

So get the **** over it.