More bad poetry (that is hopefully slightly less bad)
as my head hits the pillow at night
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I no longer dream of you buying me sunflowers,
Of holding my hand as we ice skate,
Of tucking locks of hair behind my ear
I have stopped wishing you would ask me
Not knowing my biggest achievements in life?
Especially when I dropped loaves of breadcrumbs along the way
I picture your would-have-been sour mood,
Like the curdled milk left in my fridge
When I would have told you I got into Oxford.
Things would have been different,
Because you are a patriot,
And I am a girl with a dream of flying far away
Or if you did support me going
And if somehow you found yourself next to me
On a plane with the beautiful green tail
I would find myself smushed in the middle seat
Because you prefer the window.
Of all the chances you had to hold the door open for me
You walked in so confidently.
I don’t mind holding the door,
But I shouldn’t have to beg for the favour to be returned
But I didn’t trust that you wouldn’t buy me a yellow gold ring
Or that you would want to learn
Since I was a girl in pigtails
I wanted nothing more than a sapphire to grace my finger
Of the list of baby names
I have tucked away in my notes app
How I have always wanted a daughter
To name her after the weeping tree.
But you didn’t like I wanted to wait a decade
Subjecting her to abject torture
The wonderful memories creep in too.
How you held my hand proudly.
I think of how you called me beautiful,
Of how you fulfilled dreams I never thought
Of how you held me close at night,
Of how you made diary entries of the teenage girl
Who wanted nothing more than to disappear
I think of the bad things too.
They keep me from crawling back,
Begging on my knees for you to take me back.
Before you asked me to be your girlfriend
Or how you didn’t talk to me on dates
With the sea of distance roaring between us.
I think of the lack of sunflowers,
Or how you didn’t ask me about my dreams,
Or become a clinical ethicist,
I think how I know so much about you,
And you knew nothing of me.
That you would ask me about myself,
And think about the love you said you had.
You loved a girl you did not know.
It does not hurt any less,
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