My FirstA Poem by AtticusBlack
'Remember me and smile, for it's better to forget than remember me and cry.' - Anon.
In a place for lovers of coffee, where I was a lover for Him,
Not for coffee, I despise coffee; I now despise coffee shops,
He told me to remember the good times, and walked away.
Alas, the Him I speak of is not the Him
I spoke of, which is unfortunate, because
It took Him to eradicate Him, well it took
More than Him, it took a blow job, if you
Want me to be quite honest with you.
And, may I add, to be harsh to Him.
I can also be honest and say I've never had a breakdown
In a public toilet, until yesterday. I've also never
Had a fifty year old man try to stop me committing suicide:
Though, to be frank I wasn't trying to commit
Suicide by looking out of the third floor window.
I was trying to see where He had gone, which way
He had walked down the street so I could follow.
The only word on my mind now is: Why? So, so cliché I know -
But all humans are the same so how can I be original in my
Feelings about losing someone so dear to me? Not death, by the way.
And! And why the f**k did He leave me in that f*****g coffee shop
When He f*****g knew I wasn't good with directing myself back to
The station, or even finding my way out the front door in my state!
All I can think of is "Why didn't I say more?"
But the answer is, well if I spoke I would have
Cried so hard and he would have been embarrassed.
Never mind, never the f*****g mind eh?
"Remember the good times, remember when: dot dot dot,
You've still got a pair of my boxers, my two favourite books,
Remember me and the good times we had."
No. I can't. I feel lost, humiliated, used, built up to be knocked straight back down again.
No, I can't.
© 2010 AtticusBlack
Shelved in 2 LibrariesAdded on February 7, 2010
Last Updated on February 16, 2010
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