Tag: heartache

Mad is easier.

I’m mad that you’re right.

I’m mad that I’m wrong.

I’m mad that I’m sad.

I’m mad that you ruined my favorite song.

I’m mad that it’s all taking so long.

I’m mad that I zigged when I should’ve zagged.

I’m mad that I bobbed when I should’ve weaved.

I’m mad that I still believe.

I’m mad at her,

and at him,

and the moles all over my skin.

I’m mad at mother nature,

and father time.

I’m mad that none of it is mine.

–S.

Do you want to go to the movies?

Ask for butter on the popcorn.

Choose the middle seats.

Grab your favorite candy.

They’re playing the movie of you and me,

and who we used to be.

When they roll the credits,

I will finally see:

we’re through the thick of it,

past the messy middle,

and at the very end of we.

We’ll throw out the trash.

We’ll say our goodbyes.

We’ll get into separate cars.

Wave one last time as we drive by.

-S.

Imaginary Wall.

We pass like ships at sea.

A keeper of day.

A keeper of night.

Are you okay?

I don’t know if you’re alright.

We pass like ships at sea.

We don’t touch,

or talk.

We barely interact at all.

I think there’s an imaginary wall.

-S.

Keeper of Secrets.

I am the keeper of your secrets.

I am the one that knows why you laugh,

and why you cry.

I am the one that knows why they left you,

and why they said goodbye.

I am the one that knows what eats you up at night.

I am the one, like a torch, that carries the light.

I am the one that knows about your mother,

your brother,

that guy you like,

and why you haven’t finished school.

Like high school,

you no longer think I’m cool.

-S.

I’m available.

I’m helpful.

I give good advice.

I listen when you talk.

I keep your pace when we walk.

I keep a playlist of your favorite songs.

I make sure my stories aren’t that long.

I drive because you can’t take it.

It’ll last longer to be needed,

than to be loved.

I fucking hate it.

-S.

Lost.

I talk to dad about aliens.

I talk to my co-worker about her cancer diagnosis.

I talk to mom about love.

I talk to my brother about none of the above.

I talk to myself about failure.

I try to lose myself in nature.

Friendships get stranger and stranger.

I search for meaning.

I look for signs.

More than anything,

I just feel behind.

-S.