My boss tells me that
I am a failure
and
I tell you that
I am sorry for wanting
to love you.
I consider the influence
of the past on the present.
I offer my conscience
the comfort of having had you,
if even for a moment.
I convince myself
that I still smell you
on my sheets
and
resort to new bedding.
I make my bed
and
I want to hold you.
I take a drive
to clear my mind.
The seatbelt
reassures me
that my memory is true.
I recall
the deepness of your eyes
and
am mesmerized.
“Hm?”
“You are just really pretty.”
Jax greets me.
I tell you that
he misses you
so that I can tell you
that I miss you, too.
“I am excited for you,”
turns to missing all of which
I was excited for with you.
I consider the influence
of the past on the present.
I tell you that
I am sorry for wanting
to love you.
I tell you that
you would have been easy to love
and
I know that I have said too much.