Monday, July 28
Homegrown
To my friend
Who’s no longer my friend,
I want to tell you something
About the end,
That should’ve been.
See? The end should’ve come long before,
You washed up helpless on my shore.
But it didn’t,
And so the start started,
When I opened that door,
But who could’ve known,
How strongly you’d pour?
Pouring and pouring,
Startled and falling.
I didn’t know how to keep you safe
From my calling.
And so I called
And so you came.
I understand if it’s me you blame.
Because, see friend,
I didn’t know how it would end.
And it did, but as I’ve said,
I miss you.
I miss you.
‘Cause you’re no longer my friend.
You write poems about my air.
It’s affect on you when the darkness stares,
Into you skin, into your heart,
As you wait on the quiet terrace,
For my breath to start, for my lips to part.
I write poems about your absence,
It’s affect on me while I plant my sadness.
It has truly flourished.
I wish I could show it to you.
I wish you could see it.
But it’s my own.
Homegrown.
Homegrown.
And if you must not come,
So be it.
As you’ve said,
Friends if nothing more.
It’s all I ever wanted,
Ever dreamed of,
What I always hoped for.
There must have been a change of heart,
Because you don’t come around here anymore.
Labels: On Midnight Reminiscing
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