Bitter

I am bitter,

for why must I think of you every day,

all the time in a soft breeze beside myself,

unknown to your thought and consideration.

Remember that each new shape is you,

the person running to the stairs,

crossing the floor to ascend to me.

The constant checking distracts me,

checking the sunlight like a dream,

little flickers that stay with me for life.

Photos of you make me smile,

closer to the precipice of what if,

a reminder of the nights I lost.

Why are you so right?

And deeply I know it to be wrong,

a never happen,

passing crush,

but it grinds my ribs to a powder,

apply it to my cheeks,

kiss me just once

to serve me that sweetness.

Isn’t it funny how quickly our love falters,

how it flips between people like a greeting card

penned with another name.

The songs I compile playing at the perfect moment,

your entrance accompanied with feeling,

beautiful and essential.

Who knows what will become of this,

another person for the list,

another poem for the memory book.

You will be left far behind,

and I will still be bitter.