Goodbye at Last by Matthew Horvitz

Rambling on the streets
Of contempt
Contending with the time
Of uncertainty and fear
Wondering why she is
How she is?
And that we will
Never speak again
And for the better
I suppose.
More gets written
during these phases
Of depression.
Times of staring into
Space, literally space,
And wondering
How she could
Do those things to
Me, when really
Nothing was done,
But the extinction
Of her love for myself
And the presence
Of my love for her.
Now to fill the
Crisp night air
With cigarette smoke
As the humiliation
Of failure stands beside
Me, leaning on my
Shoulder and bumming
A smoke.
Waiting for the sun
To rise as it will.
And smiling at
The thought of
What seems to
Be the rest of my life
With nice things
And real dreams.
Dreams that she never
Made real for me,
Knowing that she
Cannot make
Her actions an
Existing reality for myself
That I will not let
What her eyes interpret
Of mine to control
how I smile
and see
and breath.
But at least
She could have said
Goodbye.