I’m really good at some things.
Like, my memory. I can remember
events that took place, words said,
words that went unsaid, places
touched…places touched.
I’m not that good with names,
I will admit, but faces are one
thing I can’t forget and yours…
yours looks so familiar. You look
like someone who touched me once.
Someone who slowly opened the curtain
across my chest, and stepped your way
into my heart. You look like someone
who once took it upon themselves
to stay a night…or two. You took it
upon yourself to redecorate the interior,
splashed some color in my world, opened
the blinds, drew the shades and let
the sun in….for a while. You rearranged
the room inside and asked to stay longer,
said you would pay as much as possible
to rent the little space in my heart.
And when you gave your notice, said
there was no air for you to breathe any
longer, as you walked out my room
collapsed. The space you once called
home, filled with dust. There is no light,
no heat to fill the room inside my chest.
You look like someone I once knew.
You look like….a stranger, that once
rented that little room.