He was imperfect
He was young
She loved him
She was crazy
She wasn’t so pretty
He loved her

He had doubts
He had challenges
She loved him
She was naïve
She was carefree
He loved her

He was smart
He was cute
She loved him
She got brains
She had talent
He loved her

He lied
He cheated
She loved him
He became rude
He was difficult
She loved him

He was scared
He was reckless
She cared
He was arrogant
He was insensitive
She was hurt

He ignored her
He hurt her more
She became different
He cheated more
He cheated carelessly
She ignored him

He became scarce
He cut off ties
She survived
He was addicted
He was pitiful
She had empathy

He fell
She brought him up
He got sick
She nursed him to health
She slipped
He didn’t catch her
He got into trouble
She turned her back on him

He wanted her back
She didn’t
It was too late
She felt nothing for him

She was,
A diamond he got
She was,
A diamond he lost

we're in your car and it
smells warm, solid.

you envelop me,
your eyes are pools of nightfall:
we're brushing shoulders—

time didn't stand still
even though i wanted it to.

there is no reconciliation.
we're bleeding like paint
in the rain—
wilting flowers
colourless in
our greys.

sometimes your eyes
double, your words
curl my cheek, still lingering
to brush stray strands.

i'm open inside out;
when you turn away
i know the hinges are closing.

light scatters—my rain-spattered
windshield, dark roads below darker skies

praying our problems might align
that we may patch the cracks in our lives

I saw you in the moonlight, caustic
smile caught by 2am drives

I knew you would be the telephone pole
with which my car collides

Some find it harrowing, their life/
is (a mere footnote in others’ histories)
but I open a thrift-book, thumb the blueink
musings, in awe of this realization:/
an act of compassion is a blooming feeling, one that imbues (you and another) with the surest sense of existential peace—for these moments I live.