We passed the field by my house,

Where you used to say sorry;

Words never held meaning for you

Without smoke kissing lips.


I never should have.

I waited too long didn't I honey?

In this light I can't see you

Pretend I can't see in this light.

I've broken the pattern now.


Drawing blanks and filling them

With thoughts that wouldn't have

Existed in my head three months ago.

Certain papers wouldn't have existed in

These hands last year, but they ask me all the

Questions I've been asking myself this whole

Time. I remember when they floated from your

Lips, from behind a menthol cigarette across

The room. I remember thinking second Hand

Smoke would kill me if first hand didn't first.


Recently it's been impossible to clear the fog

From my windows, but at least Hindsight is

Twenty Twenty. You never spoke well enough

To realize the weight of teeth on skin, off skin,

Back on again.


Kiss me like the first time;

Leave me like the first time;

Never apologize.

There's a pattern to this that I never wanted to create.

I guess I didn't break it after all.

This poem is about: 
Our world


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