You're becoming like an unwelcome memory
From my teenage years; another girl
I thought I loved once, as many did.
Now, your words reveal so much of you
That I never knew was to be known
Or that I chose not to read.
My selective memory for such things
Is something I thought I had discarded
Before you came along.

I wish these words did not need
To be written, but they are just as
Necessary as all those thoughts of you
That spewed out of my pen to
Masquerade as poetry. No doubt,
They were a few small trees
In the forest of affectionate literature
That bombarded you from all sides.

I do not know why I have chosen now
To feel suddenly that you never cared.
Perhaps I am finally crashing to Earth
After the uplifting effects of your
Now seemingly ancient words, or simply
Feeling sick of feeling guilty for
Showing my hand so selfishly.

Now, my heart belongs to someone real;
Someone I could not have invented
Even if I had tried. Still, it would be
Interesting someday to compare the real you
With the one I so adored once;
The kindred spirit who was so good at
Making my heart bounce around my ribcage.
I am trying not to wonder whether
You could ever have loved me.

12/16/2004

Posted on 12/17/2004
Copyright © 2024 Richard Vince