After all this time,
I wonder how you’re doing.
My bones tell me
to be angry with you
for walking away when
you promised not to.
But my heart pretends
to understand you
and gives excuses for you.
Do you miss me?
Or did I become
like one of the streets
in one of the cities
that you once visited:
a distant memory
that you don’t remember unless
you see a picture of me
or read a poem that you once
allowed your heart to write
to me
or
about me?
Pg. 15 in Sparks of Phoenix
,👣
She shivered when she read these words.
By another woman.
But they could have been hers
It seemed as if she had gotten inside
Of all she is and was
She knows she will be missed
She will miss, too
She knows she won’t forget
And she’ll be just fine
Anyway
Jeanna’ Mead
4 45 p.m. 10.22.19
Jeanna' Soul 