Friday, June 29, 2018


I gave you my words
but they were left unread, unacknowledged
were I born centuries ago
I would have dedicated sonnets and poems to you
I gave you my heart which
after you finished breaking it,
lies in pieces at my feet
but it is glue-able, super-glue-able
and I will glue it and reglue it every time I hand it to random people for the rest of my life
but what do I do with these words?
I have written them and put them out for the world to see
and now everyone knows I am in love with you,
no, wait,
and now everyone knows I was in love with you
for even if I were to erase them and throw them into the air,
they would still smell of the remnants of our love
that never was
I sit here near the shredder with all the letters I wrote to you
on those sleepless nights and restless afternoons and aching mornings
not long ago

but is there a shredder for memories
that I could use to rid my mind of you, of us?

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