i didn’t come back for you

you didn’t want me to

you told me not to

you weren’t home

you pretended you weren’t home, lights seemed “out”

the asshole bulldog was chained to your front door knob

you moved

your cell phone was off

your house burned down

you said you were abducted by anal-probing aliens
  [they always probe bums, don’t they]

you forgot my name

you forgot your watch

you had amnesia

your nerves were shot

you were hospitalized for radical mood swings
  in response to the medication
  designed to moderate your bi-polar mood swings

you were crying on the front stoop
  and felt you were too high maintenance for me

you told me you were engaged to someone

you didn’t want to go forward
  cuz you were locked in the stasis of past-tense mediocrity
  despite the calendar pages ripping off
  and people evaporating out of your life

you knew there was a future
  but you didn’t like what it implied
  that someone [like me?] had to come back for you

you didn’t care for the sentiment i expressed
  in wanting you back in my life
  cuz you think the paths we all walk in life
  are—or should be—too linear to curve around again
  even though your sister bumped into her high school chemistry lab partner
  at Safeway last March and is living with him now

you think that just cuz we both moved on
  that it’s wrong of me—or anyone—to ever ever, fucking ever
  look back
  even if second chances are worth traveling across continents for

you just couldn’t handle the growing heap of contingencies
  my re-presence presented for you:
  your loss, my grief

you were washing your hair

you were vacuuming all day and were exhausted

you just said no [so bite me]

Copyright 2002, Stephen Buckley
08.28.02, 1100pm