It’s hard to think of you,

because it didn’t work,

it didn’t last,

and the silence between us tells me that this is it.

I have to force myself to see you,

and bring you back into the forefront of my mind.

I never thought that would be possible.


Perhaps I’m being melodramatic.

Spilling words on the floor for effect.

Watching them mix and intertwine the same as we did,

in bed, in the car, on the stairs, on the kitchen counter.

I don’t know if the fond memories hurt more than the painful ones,

or if they hurt more than a lack of you,

and us,

kissing our goodnights.

But when I do think of you I get to smile for a moment,

even if its brief,

a flash of your eyes,

you and me.

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