Tag: heartbreak

Bag Lady.

I drive by your old house.

I’m looking in every window.

I’m still trying to find myself, didn’t you know?

You’re moved on,

and you’re married.

I don’t love you anymore,

but it’s the feeling of being abandoned,

that I’ve still carried.

You’re hiking trails state-to-state now,

with only one backpack in tow.

I’m now a bag lady, didn’t you know?

I’m still carrying everything that you left behind.

You’re no longer on my mind,

but I still drive by your old house.

I’m looking in every window.

I’m still trying to find myself, didn’t you know?

–S.

Stripped Identity.

You take my virginity on a mattress, with no bedframe.

You tell me who I am as if I have no name.

You hit things around me, filling me with shame.

I don’t know how to win any of your mind games.

When you’re done with me, you leave faster than you came.

–S.

Do you regret it?

What’s it like to leave me behind?

If you knew then what you know now,

would you leave a second time?

What’s it like to leave me behind?

For me, it felt like it stopped time.

What’s it like to leave me behind?

I stayed yours, but you were no longer mine.

What’s it like to leave me behind?

…

Why do I do this to myself?

Nevermind.

–S.

Goodnight Moon.

Goodnight butterflies.

Goodnight fireflies.

Goodnight crying eyes.

Goodnight laughing kisses,

and every day blisses.

Goodnight you.

Goodnight me.

Goodnight to all of the things we didn’t get to be.

Goodnight to all we did not see.

Goodnight love,

and goodnight again, to all of the above.

–S.

Population: 1.5

We’re almost a ghost town.

There’s a chair on the side of the main road,

and glass shattered all over the ground.

The post office is boarded up,

and there’s nobody around.

There’s graffiti on the elementary school,

I wish you’d at least been cruel.

But we faded out like high-school football stars, neon-lit bars, and lightning bugs.

The love decayed over time like teeth do with drugs.

–S.

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.