I wake up every morning with you on my mind
I go through my day thinking of you
I picture us walking in the park hand-in-hand in the afternoon
And make dinner later
I go to sleep whispering your name
All day, every day, everything is you
And you
You look at me but you don’t see me
I see you laughing with your friends
And dating other girls
You say hi sometimes but nothing more
Nothing more
Nothing
Nothing
…Is me
Six months later, during some major decluttering, she finds the poem tucked among other papers.
She looks it with confusion, thinking: bloody hell, I was really hung up on this guy, huh? I barely remember his face, what even is his name again??
The poem sparks no joy.
Some Writing 