Sometimes I feel like

we were tortured lovers in a past life.

I hadn't hurt myself with the idea of you in awhile,

             then out of the depths of im not sure where;

     cosmic or subconscious,

I felt an unresolved pang for you
& maybe you knew that too. 

             I heard what I wanted
& had been waiting to hear.

You described me once as
the excitement & peace of riding a wave;

here I let it all rise & fall again & again,

though I guess we both know how it ends;

words hanging in the air,

              & you leaving them there,

words I exhaust

              because your silence weighs on my spine.

Now

We don't speak. 

We don't touch.

Ego puts on a suit and tie 

but crumbles inside. 

I feel a pull towards familiar.

I taste your words 

              before you slide inside. 

I feel you beside me one last time.

It's all in my head though

& I start to cry.

I leave the room just like you.

When I come back

I see that you've called.

Instead of pushing back buttons 

& changing my voice,

I mourn for this pain

& let this past life die.