i’m sorry that i held your hand. it wasn’t mine to hold.

i’m sorry if i hurt you when you knocked me out stone cold.

i’m sorry that i never told you thanks for all you’ve done.

you used to mean the world to me. you left. that world just spun.

we used to talk for hours about the future, here and now.

i used to look to you when i just didn’t know how

to deal with life eternal and face what i had become,

and the next day loomed before me, and my head just ached and swum.

i think you’d hate this poem cause the rhyming’s too cliche

for your post modern point of view that defines the words you say.

i think you’d like the idea of me missing you to death.

cause you’d like the way those memories catch my throat and steal my breath

i don’t hate myself anymore - that day did finally come.

i still wish you’d been with me when i got off that plane in rome.

i wish that you could see me now as i emerge from deep inside.

you could if you wanted to, but who am i kidding? you’ve just got too much pride.

so just sit there, ponder abstract things, think thoughts deep and profound.

pray to the universe. one day it just might come around.

i think of you now and again and wonder why on earth

i wasted so much time asking you what i was worth.

i think of you and sigh, and then i smile because i know

we’ll be at a stoplight one day and you’ll look out your car window

and see me in my car singing with my head held high

and you’ll think of who i used to be. and for the first time

in such a long time,

you’ll cry.