there's a piece of you

in every poem

i scribble

on a starbucks napkin

i sit here and sip

my coffee

i blink away the tears

and ignore the pain

as i grab another napkin

and sip my caffine

i'm so lost in

thoughts of you

i dont even notice

when you come in

the door opens

and the winter winds blow

my hair gets in my eyes

i dont even see you

look over at me

longingly.

how can we say this was meant to be?