I don’t listen to music in the car anymore.
I listen to poetry so loud that the speakers,
bump bump bump at all of the saddest parts.
Today I saw a taxi driver cry as he checked his mail,
and I wanted to stop to tell him somedays,
I can’t walk outside without crying either,
and somedays I feel like all I am is a taxi driver,
escorting old loves to their true destiny.
The day you left I wiped my tears on a white washcloth,
and my mother kept it in her hope chest so one day she can say,
Remember how far you’ve come.”
Sometimes I write about how you broke my heart,
but I really think I am writing about how I broke my own heart.
I’m not angry at you.
I remember the years, the days, the nights,
that we danced by the water under the moonlight.
But I missed you when I was next to you,
and I missed you when you were in the other room,
and we tried so hard to make these plans hold firm.
I know you tried to keep a grip on reality,
but some mornings the birds forget to sing,
and the sun has to be reminded to rise and fall.
We set our clocks forward and back to make up for the days,
the sun sleeps in or stays out past curfew,
and darling our sun may have set,
but I still feel the burn on my back.
I still feel the burn on my back.
I hope my moonlight catches your eye as you’re driving at night,
and I hope your sun shines so bright on a new love.
I hope you found a way to keep your tires from always popping,
and I hope you found a way to get better rest.
I hope the books on your shelf still excite you,
and when you hear that song,
I hope you think of me and smile.
But mostly, I hope you make yourself proud,
because you weren’t proud of yourself,
as you tucked me in all those nights —
maybe it was because we ran into love full force.
I’m afraid a love like ours is a one-shot kinda thing,
but we fucked it up somewhere between casseroles,
and planning a wedding that I forgot to invite myself to.
After all those years together,
I can’t remember how your voice sounded saying my name.
Somedays I wish I never met you,
just so I could meet you tomorrow.
I wish I didn’t grow old with you so young.
I wish I could have saved you for later.
This post originated on Whispering Bones.