I've realized I'm lacking in
the details.
In the details of
my life
But also the details of
my poetry.
I think it's because not only the fear of
the unknown
But the fear of letting others in
Of letting them know
the truth.

Because the details create
an image
An image creates
a picture.
A picture creates
a scene.
A scene creates
a setting.
A setting creates
a feeling.
A feeling creates
an emotion.
An emotion creates
a tear.
A tear create
a bond.

A bond between you and me
me and you
you and us
us and them
them and me.

Details allow people into
my thoughts
my feelings
my fears
my heart.

I don't want them in.
I don't want them to know.
I don't want you to know.
I don't want your comments.
I don't want your judgement.
I don't want to know what you think of me.

So I hide behind my lack of detail
my lack of imagery
my lack of picture
my lack of setting
my lack of emotion.

But it seems what I lack is what I make the most obvious.
Because in my lacking people see what I'm hiding.
The inability to let people in.
The inability to let go.

When I first met you, I didn't think much.
We didn't talk much.
Just friends of friends.

Nothing special.

One year later, I met you again.
Just a simple hello.
A simple good bye.

Nothing special.

Another year goes by.
We meet for the third time.
This past summer was different however
Because we did not know what would transgress in the months to come.

Nothing special.

At the beginning of that summer, he had crushed me.
Broken up with me over the phone.
A year and a half of love. Gone.
My best friend. Gone. Forgotten.

Nothing special.

At the end of that summer, she crushed you.
Broken up with through a text.
Three years of love. Gone.
You went to her house in a rage.

Nothing special.

You begged her to take you back.
You cried.
Not that you told anyone else that.
You only told me.
And if I told anyone you would deny it.

Nothing special.

A month goes by,
You act like you don't care.
You hide behind your blind rage.
You told her to never talk to you again.
She didn't. You thought you had moved on.

Nothing special.

I thought I had moved on too.
But at a party, I drunkenly slapped your best friend.
He promised he would make me his,
But like the rest he let me go.
I wasn't worth the trouble.
The usual.

Nothing special.

But then you swooped in with your big arms and big heart.
You told me to forget about it to not stress.
Stress free livin'.
All good in the hood.
That's what we drunkenly told one another.

Nothing special.

Then we went up to your room.
Don’t think *****.
We talked until the sun rose in the sky.
About anything and everything.
Our first real talk and we couldn't shut up.
It was simple, easy.
Magical.

Something special.

As the hangover kicked in,
You kissed my forehead.
You called me beautiful.
Called me wonderful.

Something special.

As I drove away from you and back to reality,
I didn't want it to be over.
I texted you.
You replied.
We began our journey.

Something special.

Staying up until the sun came up.
Sometimes 3am. Sometimes 6.
We talked and texted about everything.
20 questions was our game.
But 20 turned into infinity.
And infinity was nice.

Something special.

You visited me.
I visited you.
An hour away was nothing.
It only made the time with you more special.
You told me kissing me felt like you were in another place.

Something special.

But infinity had to end eventually.
You saw her again.
One smile, one laugh, one I miss you.
Like a puppy you went running at her first call.
You broke up with me over the phone.

Nothing special.

You said you were sorry.
Called yourself an *******, a ****, every name in the book.
You said you liked me but you liked her more.
You were in love with her.
You said you did it wrong but it was the right thing to do.

Nothing special.

Now I sit back and think.
Did it mean anything?
The kisses, the cuddles, the talking 'til dawn.
Did you ever care in the first place?
Do you even think about it?

Nothing special.

Unlikely.
You have her.
She has you.
At least I assume.

Nothing special.

But I have me, myself, and I.
And unlike you I know what I want.
I want someone who wants me.
Who doesn't second guess his feelings for me.

Something special.