I think of those few moments
right after I heard,
the quiet emotion inside me.
That kind of sadness is,
staring elation in the face,
discussing intensity politely
over the dinner table
and backtracking
into a darking depth inside me
that makes me rip shreds out of my nightmares
and watch them walk me to work each morning.
Oh god I miss you.
Come back.
Please.
I can't listen to Hendrix
or see the 15 bus go by,
I can't even write a poem I like
or stop mentioning you.
I say your name and hate myself for it.
I don't know why.
Just weeks before I'd said to the other one
"I'm moving on, I don't wake up missing him anymore"
I didn't know what missing you was,
until now.
Just Come back so I can smack you
and tell you
not to drive on drugs
and to not be an idiot
and then you'd say sorry
and hold me until we were old and Rathgar fell around us.
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