It Will Sting

It still stings to think of
what we might have been.

Will always sting, will
always singe my sense
of pride, knock ego off
kilter– upset my stride.

Will you forget me as I
shift under bedclothes
late at night, still filled
with your hazel eyes; will
you be awake with me?

Don’t let me leave your
memory. Don’t slip me
away. Remember the day
we touched and parted
ways. I can’t undo these
shades inside, shutting
out the light I want to find.

It’s true– you still flit across
my mind. Still heat me up
with toxic fire. I don’t want
to suffer here in vain; will you
join me? or; alleviate this pain?

I know it can’t be done, undone.
Now I pay for what seemed to be
play, and harmless fun.
I ache, but I’ve improved.
I know I don’t need you.
And yet– please,
remember me.

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