Going back to a graveyard

I went back to the city and it was filled with our memories. I went back to the beach, sat there alone. Smoked a couple of cigarettes there listening to your playlist. I normally ignore listening to the songs you sent me; it just makes me anxious. But I wanted to feel all of that again. I welcomed anxiety. I don’t know if I missed you because I was dealing with my anxiety. But I am sure the anxiety was because of you. Only you. Does that mean I was missing you in a way? Does it make you feel better? That I still miss you? I don’t want to. Sometimes, I think if you’d come back and honestly, I don’t have the strength to go through all of that again. I am scared. I am even scared to say out loud that I am scared. But secretly, every time I feel lonely, I think about you coming back and us living our lives together. I am ready to work on this if you come back. I am. I am. I am. Though, are you? Will you?

Untitled Poem:

Somewhere buried in the sand of that beach

is a matt black ring which I lost

when we were on our long walks

A couple of miles from there is

a dump which is still the same

even after so many months

Somewhere buried in that dump

is the bud of my last cigarette

that i smoked in front of you

(You hated it, I know. I am sorry)

A couple of block right from there is

your place where I used to sneak in at

A sharp left, second right, second building

Somewhere in that place, I left a piece of me

I don’t know if you took it with you

If not,

Somewhere in the city it is lost

As lost as the ring is in that sea