Lovers Left Behind

It’s easy to say
“I don’t care”
to say that it doesn’t hurt
that their voice doesn’t still
echo through your core
“I’ve moved on”
you say as you pour yourself a cup
of black coffee.
(You used to take cream and sugar)

It’s not so easy to conjure
up their spirit,
or remember what it felt like
to snuggle into their arms,
or understand why you still feel sick
for a person who hurt you so badly,
for a person who you really
shouldn’t have loved at all.

But for some reason,
you like to torture yourself.
You think about it more than you should,
and even though you are so incredibly happy,
in love completely,
and you understand that what you have now
is what you need
and is what’s filling your lungs
with crisp, fresh air,
you ache.

You hear Elton John
and think of the time you laid
with legs on the wall,
blonde hair tumbling into orange shag carpet,
waiting for someone to make you feel important,
(It was your eighteenth birthday)
He walked in and saw you,
arms above head,
the spinning record vibrating your soul.
“I hate Elton John,”
and shut the door and left.

But the ache,
the pounding,
the sobs stuck in your throat,
they are magic.
You were pushed off the edge of a cliff,
straight into new skin,
your skin,
the skin you always belonged in
but were too afraid to find.

Be thankful for the lovers lost,
left behind you,
They made room for yourself,
your light no longer contained or
it glows warmly,
seeps into those around you,
and they love Elton John.


2 thoughts on “Lovers Left Behind

  1. You actually make it appear so easy with your presentation but I in finding this topic to be actually one thing that I believe I might never understand. It seems too complex and very wide for me. I am taking a look forward to your next publish, I will try to get the dangle of it!


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