chosen ones

Chosen ones, when I thought that we were young.

I called you through a pane of glass, and stared at you as you walked past.

Now you look so sad.

I’m sick of peeling carpet pads, and staring out a front window

waiting for you to get home.

I’ll help you dig a garden bed,

and scare the landlord from collecting your money.

You can stay with me.

What do you mean ’move away’?

Don’t you think it’s easier to stay?

Besides, I slip on tile floors,

and the neighbor's cat sleeps on your porch.

You should call your friends to play.

I don’t really want to watch you drink all day.

I’ll bite you if you don’t get up and let me take you for a walk.

Like we did at Roxy curtains,

distant coasts, and streets that we both knew too well.

You looked so proud when we would rest in gentle beams

of afternoon sun, summer breeze.

We’re not so young, now,

us chosen ones.

Why is your suitcase open on the floor?

I would prefer it in the same place it was the weeks,

and weeks, and weeks, and weeks it was before.

Is there something terrible that I should know?

Some days when it seems like everything will leave -

and when you think of all the things you did that you wish you did differently -

I need you to remember all the good we shared.

I need you to forgive yourself for times you weren’t there.

My love for you is simple,

it’s never going to leave -

Once I had chosen you

and you had chosen me.

Cotton ears waving in the briefest summer breeze,

or paw-prints from floorboards you’d wipe up twice a week,

or garbage in the alley I threw over the lawn -

You're so scared about the future, but all the future’s gone.

You’re gonna miss it all.

You’re gonna miss it all.

You’re gonna miss it all.

You’re gonna miss it all, if you’re not looking.

I loved you like nothing.

Good mourning.