My back feels as sore

As the exhausted chair

I try to rest in.

Even when I am in

This simple moment

I still wonder:

Who are you now?

It has been long enough for you

To be someone new.

Or do you fester in

Anger and a false ego,

So that you are now

Absolutely horrid.

Do you think of me

as I think of you?

I doubt it.

You dropped bombs inside

My glass ribcage,

Rattling, shaking, breaking.

When if anything,

The most I did

Was drop a pebble.

Echoing down, down, down,

Through the bottomless well;

There was not even a ripple

To show for it.

Do you remember us?

Laying against patterns

Whispering lyrics

I’d never heard.

And ones that I now wish

To never flood my ears again.

Now at least I can lay

Outstretched

Allowing the ebb and flow

Of memoriam

Pass through me.

Even though

It was so long ago,

I am still sorry I was not enough,

No matter how often

I am told

It is not my fault.

It is not my fault.