You popped into my mind today
might have been the leaves,
the music, the mindset I was in.
Maybe you never really left,
just slept in my head, like a tumor of turmoil and disgust.
until a moment when I’d stop to think about the past
and your face would rediscover itself.
I’ve stopped writing poetry, maybe it’s because nothing ever happens to me.
I used to try so hard to write something that would make you fall in love with me.
He doesn’t make me impress him, although I always try.
I don’t know where I’m going with this.
his hands, are too far away tonight.
Your face, isn’t far away enough.
It’s been years, but you’re still here.
not nearly near enough to hear me scream.
set me free.
an undeveloped poetry moves between my lips
your smile glistening on the glass of my shattered past.
I can’t tell you how glad I am you’re gone.