Evening jokes and candle dinners,
Potted flowers hammock hours.
I miss walks along the beach,
Holding hands and making plans.
I even miss arguments and hurt feelings,
Working things out, and relearning what love is all about.
I don’t miss you. This is true.
For you were wicked and cruel.
I don’t miss ***, or getting your text,
As each word manipulation, each night of passion a hoax.
I would rather like to live again,
And make plans and joke and spoil and spend,
I would rather cuddle and my life to end,
To never need love again,
Because I would rather live laugh live beside you,
My friend.
A poem she will never read.
I love you.