i am trying
not to empathize with
just anything
that reminds me of you
but even when the six letters
of your name
are enshrouded in metaphors
or emblazoned on tee shirts
I’m going to find my nearest bathroom stall
and cry for an hour
I’m going to sit in my room until
12 O’Clock, with my dull aching chest that
yields to crumpled and
compromised exhaling
even if it isn’t you
even if it’s only someone like you
even if it’s only the extended idea of someone like
you,
you’d best know i’m alone behind the bathroom door
listening to the neighbors screaming under the floor
wondering why this doesn’t seem to stop from
being relevant anymore
Copyright 2015 Golden Star Poetry