There is a fine line between romance and stalking;
Between hope and delusion. Sometimes, the line is
Memory, it seems: if you remember too much
Too well, you are probably on the wrong side.

Memory was always my problem:
I scared people with what my synapses could do,
And disappointed them with what they couldn’t.
I shared in both feelings, and still do.

*
Sometimes, I forget that I am trying to forget.
All those movie scene fantasies seem
Far too appealing, even now when I should be
In bed, engaged with reality, not shivering,
Over you.

Your words really are inconsequential now that
I cannot respond to them. Selfish, I know, but
Isn’t that what we found out about me? I am
Stranded on the other side of one way glass:
All I can do is watch, knowing I am invisible,
And feel futile words die alone in my throat.

Sometimes, I remember that I cannot forget.

*
I want to scream into the silence;
To remind you that I am here, even though
I want you to forget; or perhaps to express
How much I hate this side of me.
If you saw it coming, no wonder you ran.

Fuck this. Just fuck it all. I will never be
Who I want to be, or lead the life I desire.
(So many words, and all I see is “I”. How fitting.)
Your life, your picture perfect little life,
Could never have been our life: I couldn’t
Have made it happen, even if I wanted to.

So enjoy your wine, whimsy, and wedding.
Smile with genuine joy whenever you can,
And bask in the appreciation of your perfect match…
And should I ever chance to cross your gaze,
Please look away, clearly and decisively.
I deserve nothing less.

10/17/2015

Posted on 11/18/2015
Copyright © 2024 Richard Vince