you know, i write all these poems for you,
but what if when we meet again it’s different.
the world is still on your shoulders,
but in a new way.
your hair doesn’t flop the same way.
our conversations are short and stunted.
our awkward moments too awkward.
when you see me again,
it won’t be like the millions of times i’ve played it over in my head.
everything will be different.
and, i’m scared as hell,
because i want our same.
i want our drawn out conversations about everything and nothing at the same time.
i want when you think of me,
instead of letting the thought float by,
to pick up the phone and call me.
i want our effortlessness and our groove.
the way we worked together was unbelievable.
i can’t imagine you without your snide comments and brilliant random thoughts.
i can’t imagine you with me, without our little quirks.
if we meet again,
it can’t be anything different,
because then we’re already too far apart.
we’re in different universes
when we need to be in the same rooom.