i sit by the window watching the sun
go down into the horizon, tasting his tongue
on my breath, sweet and sickening like
fruit pastilles or a persimmon, homelike

it reminds me of my future with him
it reminds me of my past without him
all those years wasted not knowing
my love would meet me in that

dead end old school, where hate is bred
and stupidity is taught in what students read
they don’t know anything about life
about love, religion, repentance, longing

for his eyes, his speckled face glistening
in the late-afternoon sunlight listening
to my ramblings about this or that
sometimes his finger pit-pats

on the desk where i first found myself
a sea of endless pain and anguish rescued
by my foolish love, another pointless beckoning
quenched by lack of reckoning

i sit by my window
waiting for him

I remember my first time meeting you. You had long red hair and kind eyes, the kind I could get lost in. And, God, I couldn’t stop smiling. You said your name was Mary. Soft freckled face and withered hands. I was so curious, filled with naive wonder. You told me you loved oranges, and I think I started to love them almost as much as I love you. But then things started to change. Burning passion was now a fake plastic sorta love. Y’know I thought I could be different. I thought If i just limited myself and controlled it I’d be okay. Now look at me. It’s starting to hit me that I never really had any control. No. It wasn’t until I was scraping blood off my fingernails that I realized I couldn’t stop, but by then it was too late. I started doing things I never thought myself capable of, vile, monstrous acts. I fell farther… and farther… And then I was all alone, just a pile of shaky limbs and crooked joints. I’ve done a lot of bad things. I am, by no means, a good person. But, Mary, my dear, I promise I’m not a monster.

What would I do,
Back then with you,
I wish I could undo.

Replaying in my mind what could have been,
your song,
your kiss,
and everything else that I missed,
what we have been through since.

I learned how to love myself,
and even though I miss you,
we both deserve to find that truth,
to have someone say I love you.

"If you truly love them, let them go"
But what about me?
I did the right thing
Yet here I am, hurting and crying
Wondering when it will stop
They say that time heals all wounds
But so much time has passed
And the wounds are still there
I did the right thing
But I am punished for it
I let them go so they can be happy
But they left the pain with me