how many stars will have to die
because I have wished them all away so
I can experience the darkness and agony you feel
inside whenever I look up at the night sky .

And I am so sorry to you.
To the nights you spend with your hands
clasped tight around your ears because you cannot
stand the sound of my voice trying to get through to
you so you can see me as your lover.

Puffy eyelids and a red nose that have developed
due to your allergy to pollen since you are forced to
stand outside our apartment day
after day scared to come inside to me because you
feel indebted I am sorry,
as well.

For it is not your fault that you don’t remember me
like I remember you and
you forgetting how that tiny scar behind your knee formed
and it bothers you so much now that you have invested
precious dollars into various cosmetics to have it hidden
then faded away. When you used to cherish
that scar and trace it when looking at mine.
Mine.

The scar that is identical to yours
on the tip of my index finger you don’t
remember it’s history so how could I
expect you to recognize me.

How could I expect things to
go back as it was and for us to love
like we did I shouldn't expect much.
But I do.