You were the words I couldn't say.
the words i still can't seem to manage,
and you knew them,
you could whisper them to me like pillow talk secrets,
pressed together tight between sighing information
but you are only one part of me,
the right atrium when what I really needed was the left.
you get me but your not what I need.
and i begin to resent that the notion,
that you'd say you were my best,
but your not,
you won't be,
you aren't.
Its not even vanity if I were to say that,
soberly,
The best of you is me.
time would tell you what others do not,
intentionality would broadcast the truth in the lies,
I don't expect roses,
in scripted jewelry,
just for you to think and intentionally remember me.
an aorta to your heart,
an elixir to allow you to breathe,
remember me.
when you reach for the next long legged cigarette,
with the the tattooed sleeve wrapped round his neck,
Remember me.
Because I do not forget you.