a lawnmower drones
just over there
as I sit and breathe in the day.
I think of you
and I'm overcome in an instant,
guilty and grieving,
that feeling seemingly from nowhere,
sliding sideways into my heart,
all full of itself,
look where I find myself
hiding away here
after walking out your door
all those years ago -
you could hate me,
but instead you tell me you love me -
you love me still,
despite my thoughtlessness,
my drunken stupidity.
I sit here while the breeze softly touches me
and I imagine it's your touch,
warm and pure.
I try to send myself back to you
while my secret, constant, paper-thin heart
except where you are.
"There is no refuge from memory and remorse
in this world - the spirits of our foolish
deeds haunt us, with or without repentance."