You’ll never be able to tug on my shirt as I tell you about my love for stripes.
When I empty my pockets out on my bed:
- change ($2.85)
- lipstick (dark plum)
- two keys (one to the mailbox, one to the front door.)
I’ll notice how there are no notes, no reminders of you.
I meant to write this about the sky:
- the rain
- the chill
- the gust of pale gray clouds racing one another.
- the slight breeze that made me feel like living.
but here I am, with a perfect pen
to write these words out… a miserable inadequacy.
I seem to think you’d get a kick out of this. Someone writing about you.
But you are my inspiration to never love again.