2
0
1
0
Twenty
And ten.
Two
And one.
Adding up to three.
You
Her
And me.
Me came early,
And you just in time. . .
But you couldn’t stay.
Your heart pulled away,
And left mine with all the weight to carry.
Two zero one zero.
The heaviness of that year still aches
In my memory.
A dead
Weight.
I languished over our death
While you left
And met
Her.
I let go
And five months was all it took
For you to live again.
Timing is everything, it seems.
But time has erased nothing.
Time has bored
Into my skin each passing year…
One
Two
Three…
And now four.
You
This weight
This scar
Lives in my bones,
And I was but a scratch on your surface.
Ten and twenty
The number of days I anticipated it would take
To get you out of my system.
The hurt wasn’t the worst.
It was more.
It was deep,
But not deeply felt.
For months I dwelt
On the unfairness of the hand
I was dealt.
Yelled
Cried
Screamed
Kicked,
Because what was more unfair
Than you never loving,
Never wanting,
Was the grief that I had to bear.
I resented its presence most of all.
So I left it,
Like you did me,
Like I did you.
And it has found me here,
In a year
Too far removed
From there.
Two
And none
One
And four.
Here I sit,
Bringing you back…
Doing what I should have done before.
