poem about him.

Sometimes

At night

I let my hand reach

past my box spring

Down to my bed frame.

I grab hold of the wooden planks.

The splinters

Remind me of

Your words.

The steadiness

Reminds me of

You catching me.

I can’t bring myself to hate you

But I could never love you again.

I see you in strangers sometimes.

A flash of your face in the crowd,

You haunt me in static.