December 23, 2016

Bus Rides

Someday we will
ride the same bus
only seats apart,
and you will think about me
in the most derogatory ways.

You will consider saying something,
but your mouth will run dry,
and your lips will crack,
because you know,
it was your fault this time.

You will mock me in your head:
the music I am listening to, the way my
legs are crossed, the reflection of my
face in the window.

You will nit-pick
because you cannot find anything
that you whole-heartedly dislike about me.
Your memories will flood back
and you will ache to say hello,
but you won't

because you know I will stare at your blankly,
as I do out the window
with thoughts of regret, and forced happiness
glossing over my eyes

and you will never ride that bus again.

1 comment

  1. Dark. Spotted a typo in the last stanza, by the way. I like the thumbnails you make. Really pretty :)


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