The Ones
You were the one who hung from our hearts
by the twanging strings of a neon guitar.
You were the one who brandished the megaphone
and sang your song,
and what we heard was
Hey man, don’t sweat it. I’m here.
You were the one with the baby face
wearing lipstick and eye pencil and god, that hair
and somehow,
still looking like a badass.
You were the one who left,
without a hi-ho or good bye.
I’m the one who sits rapt
struck dumb by the crackle of your chords.
I’m the one who smiles and laughs
when you smiled and laughed
(because somehow when you smiled and laughed
it was all okay again).
I’m the one with the broken heart
I’m the one with no resolution
thinking she’d be better off
if it had been her.
(she wouldn’t cry. she wouldn’t cry.
she’d live a little, then she’d die.
and no fucking world would wonder why.)
You were the one who made the world wonder.
Now I’m the one wondering
what it would be like
to see your living breathing body
instead of a shadow
to hold your hand through it all, thinking
we are the ones
who can conquer the world.
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