We used to multiply our words
in the gold mines of love,
Getting rich off emotions
no one else could have possibly felt
before we’d touch hands.
I am not a miner of words anymore.
I am not in desperate search
of the last nugget
that could save me from this haggard life,
and make my heart rest a moment in sharp relief.
I am sitting on the Continental Divide of
whatever life is without you.
It could go either way.
To be fair…
I didn’t mean to go looking for you. You just sort of appeared, like you always did, I suppose.
A newsfeed friend of a friend, adventures captured picturesque…Curiosity is a dangerously beautiful thing.
And there you were, looking just as you did before. I almost didn’t recognize you. All I could think was, oh, you still exist…How odd.
How…anticlimactic. That my breath didn’t even catch.
And then you were gone. And I felt almost nothing.
Facebook stalking isn’t nearly as intoxicating as it was.
I don’t remember most of the things
you said to me, and those I do,
time has blurred their sharp edges
to a dull ache I hardly even feel.
It’s almost like you were never real.