Do you ever glance over your shoulder
when you visit our favorite coffee shop?
It didn't seem so far down the road when our hands were interlaced
now it seems an impossible distance to make
one lonely Tuesday night mid-May.
I sit at the table closest to the window
just in case
you happened to pass by and realize you loved me
but I've never been very realistic.
The room never seemed so smokey
when your eyes met mine across the table
but those very same eyes now watch the counter
and hope to hear a quiet voice order a chai latte.
I haven't heard it in a while
maybe you've found a new location;
a new girl with set of pale legs
and wide eyes.
I'm hardly a poet
and I can't stand rhymes enough to try
but I never had the chance to articulate
how deeply I've fallen
into your words
and your crooked smile
to prove to you that
I pushed you away
when you were the one I needed closest.
And I lied when I said
I didn't love you.