I know you thought of me today
When you visited my friend’s workplace
A small part of you was hoping
You would encounter my face.

I haven’t thought of yours in a long time.
Granted, when you do cross my mind,
A reminder of what I left behind,
You no longer take a hold of me,
You simply fleet right through,
A deleted memory. A faded hue.
Keep on thinking of me, then,
Because I guarantee
You will never see my face again.

They say it’s better to forgive than to forget
But who says I haven’t forgotten you yet?



I was listening

to an old tune

that held new meaning.

When I found my muse

in a little blue

dot on my phone.


flooded into view.

how long has it been,

A year, maybe a few?

Last I heard,

You were still addicted to escape

Drowning your sorrow

in liquid courage and opiates.

Now, there’s a little icon

Suspended in the hollow,

with your face, as yet unforgotten

(a picture I myself had taken).

With an inaudible scream,

my heart nearly jumping

I read over your terrible spelling.

You said I appeared in your dream

That you still recall the feeling

we used to have before.

I decided I needed

to hear your voice once more,

for old times’ sake.

It was a mistake.


You told me you practice archery

(But how come you still miss me?)

You finally got a ferret

and you had no regrets.

We had not yet attained maturity

back then, you just wanted to party.

You still cuddle with Nemo

(how I miss that little furball!)

But your voice turned low

and I wanted to halt the call

at the mention

of your new woman.

What did I expect, that you would remain

Mine, forever wallowing in pain?

But then you explained that, despite your desire

Her spark has never matched our fire.

I whispered “because we were real”

But could not tell you how I feel.

I cannot pull you back on my string

Besides, she treats you like a king.

You asked if you could still call me a friend

for that, we would need to meet again.

For now, you must remain an apparition

Your face condemned to my imagination.


(I still love you, that I know.

how come I can’t say it though?)

You finally hung up the phone

I was back to being all alone.


You’ll always be the one

I loved, still love, the most

But Cupid had a loaded gun

now, you’re just a ghost.

Memory Lane

Sometimes when we are lost

peaking through an old door

may be exactly what we need.

Distant, happier memories

remind us that

losing our way

is better than

pretending there is only one road

to fate.