As the leaves fled the branches,
hope of you fell, with your heart to her.
Impressions in your eyes fade to black
as she walked away. Your fingers played
strings of sorrow, still I’ve never sensed
something so beautiful.

Frozen windows hid your fractured heart,
evenings and mornings spent gluing pieces,
shattered fragments of glass with sliced fingers
and tear-stained lenses. I know I am not the one.

I’ve seen you in another season,
each with a different hand cradled carefully in yours.
I’ve watched as flowers, time, and desperate smiles
adorned each in turn. Watched as you
craved their attention, longed for your body next to theirs.

Here I sit, scratched down to the bone, with an
ego bruised down to the core. Digging, turning soil,
Waiting with breath baited. Oh- I know I’ll fill
the void, until something better becomes
your summer home.