This poem is about to be clunky and messy
No rhyme, no reason
Just thoughts
And feelings
No filter
Because I’m about to be 36
And “the years start coming
And they don’t stop coming”
16, 36, 2006, 2016
It’s all the same
So I’m checking my email
Like I’m back in 2002
Finger pulling from the top of the screen
Like everyone in 2022
The words I’m waiting to hear are “I need to see you, when can I see you?”
But they won’t come.
Because you’re still you
And I’m still me
6 years and 6 months later
Still rings true—
Less than two months
You turned my world upside down
Less than two months
You went from I miss you
To nothing at all
Less than two months
Is all it took
This time
And this time
There will be no next time
The more you pull away
The sooner I’ll walk away
To the point when I’ll be gone
Except for that I won’t
Because I don’t
Because my story will forever be tied to you
But your story isn’t tied to mine
And so, therein lies my heartbreak.
And yet, it won’t matter.
It never does.
Because “the years start coming
And they don’t stop coming.”
-SR
PS “I’m getting to old for this shit”
Shelley Wishes 