Monday, April 6, 2015

Unrequited in an age of quiet requiem

There are times I write words down, beautiful words,
words I then erased because you would see
yourself as I would see your self,
unsure, nursing a sense of self unseen
except only to yourself. Selfishly, I finish
my train of thought, forgetting it goes nowhere
now, here, where thoughts abound,
surrounding the implausible boundlessness
unrepentant, somewhat petulant. Parting, we part reluctantly
on my part, taking a moment
to notice, I take far too much to heart.