Broken Hearts
You'd surprised me
with your heartbreak poems.
I felt the pain in every
shouting words
you strung
so tightly
for they can't breathe.
Perhaps, it's killing them.
But they made me feel alive
inside.
I dreamt of seeing you again
at your favorite coffee shop
and you would start gazing at me.
I'll put down the book I'm reading.
You'll probably order me a cup of coffee
that would sit on our table for hours
because it'll enjoy our sad stories.
We'll talk about your mushy poems.
I'll listen very carefully
like I really care about your heartache.
You can cry on my shoulder
and I'll remember those forlorn days
when I cried for you.
I'll probably ask you
why did you let her break your heart
when there is someone
right beside you
who'd always wanted
to take good care of it.
But that cup of coffee is not real.
Even the coffee shop doesn't exist
like your love for me.
(For M.J.)
