When the thought of him makes your throat close and your eyes water,
in the middle of a coffee shop far from home,
maybe it’s a sign that your love is bitter, like black coffee,
stinging your lungs in the last sips, burning your lips, erasing his taste slowly.

When the sight of him makes your mind go blank, urges you to cross the street when the light is barely yellow,
maybe it’s a sign that you would sacrifice too much of yourself,
for a boy who would wait seconds after the shades signal a definite yes.

When the smell of him makes your heart beat faster than a taxi cab in rush hour,
horns blaring amongst the commotion of busy feet and lagging conversation,
maybe it’s a sign that you should be heading the other way,
towards a sunrise instead of the hues of a dying sunset.

Maybe it’s a sign that instead of knowingly heading to the end,
you should turn yourself around and go back to where you started.
The purple and orange blaze holds nothing that you need,
and you deserve a beginning instead of a sinking smile in the horizon.