I keep writing about you
As if you will ever read any of this
I laid awake last night
Waiting for you to call but you didn’t
Apparently “I will see you later”
Is actually just a passive statement
Not meant to imply that you are setting aside time for me
Who would have thought it?
Now I’m up at six a.m.
Feeling like shit about my own reflection
Wondering if I lost the weight in my stomach
Or looked different
Would that make this pain less omnipresent?
I’m thinking about the lost sleep
The feeling of gloom that shadowed my soul
As I laid in my bed, quite possibly forever alone
I didn’t cry but maybe I ought to
I just thought I would be damned
If I let you get one more tear
Knowing you were probably snuggled next to another woman’s ear
Whispering the things
That I had wished to hear
And now I have to look in the mirror
And compose myself
Knowing I’ve lost another night’s sleep
Because I choose this cell
Imprisoned by my choices in men
Never able to quite comprehend
My own accountability in this mess
Confused by the pain
As I continue wishing for you in vain
But I’ll be damned if you get this tear.
Poetry on Paper 