i wonder if you still remember
the time when i wrote you a poem
in the middle of a noisy lunch hour crowd
a small table on the second floor
of the local mcdonald's.

i used to smile when i thought about it,
the days when i felt alone in a room of forty.
when i sat with people who i thought were friends
but were just as plastic
as the lunch tables we ate on.

back then, i clung to that memory
until my hands bruised and my wrists bled.
the scraps of poetry already slipped my mind
but not the pair of headphones we shared
nor the secrets we kept.

every now and then, i think about it,
a wave of soul-crushing emptiness washes over me.
i wonder how you are and how you feel,
but just like us, the fleeting thought
fades away into oblivion.

we lost touch over the years,
but i wish i didn't lose you.