Why Can’t I Be Like Her?

It is back.
Longing for her.
Thought I’d turned it inward,
Poking to learn how it worked its way.

Would’ve been easier if she didn’t say how she loved me.
Would’ve sustained a few days more if she didn’t
Kiss me again and again, saying sorry sorry.

She disengaged the phone, and I lock in.
Replaying her voice in my head.
She is so calming when quiet.
Why can’t I be like her?


Featured image: Woman on Ship Deck, Looking out to Sea (also known as Girl at Ship’s Rail) by Maurice Prendergast (c.1895)

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