April 16, 2003

incomplete

i've never felt so incomplete as the time when i stood
in the cold for hours waiting for my heart to let you go.
that day was a tragic loss, but the battle was a good one
it still wages on. i remember the moment i realized
you were gone. you stepped round the corner,
out a door, and disappeared from my world. i had nothing,
had kept nothing of you to prove you had been mine.
i walk to the store on nights when i'm lonely.
ice cream never did anything to help me, but it's something
to fill me to distract me. i slow as i near,
dragging my feet past the corner i stood on that day.
it still smells the same. of warm roses, and stagnate water.
the store looks older each time i visit. the florescent light
casts a yellowed glare that makes it hard to tell what's clean,
and what's old. i make sure not to touch anything,
unless it's wrapped in plastic. rambling joe's still there.
laughing with the baskets, and chewing on the 9am coffee cup
they give him for free everyday. at times i find it difficult
to believe that he comforts me. but it's the memory of the day
that brings me peace. it was our last day. but, what did i know.
how could i have known anything. i was just a child in a store
with scuffed up boots, and dirty brown tears.
some children will wait forever for their mothers to return
even if they are the ones left behind.

before - after