The Good Years Didn’t Matter

A Poem

Photo by Aleksandr Ledogorov on Unsplash

i can collect the number on my hands
that you’ve praised me,
that you’ve left me feeling
as anything more than a friend —

someone who matters in your life,
someone who’s not just a bystander
in all your circumstances

i can collect the number on my hands
that you’ve made me feel worthwhile —
when all you did was take from me
what you could over time

and you gave little, if anything, back

and you gave little, if anything, back

i asked for your time,
i asked for your affection,
i asked for everything —
in the spaces between moments

i asked for everything, it feels,
without saying a thing

i asked for your regard,
i asked for you to be there,
i asked for you to be with me —

but you didn’t do anything

and i mourn, i do,
for everything i wasted —
all with you, all with you