Candy Hearts

Candy Hearts

It's pathetic the way

I treasure up my memories of you:

little throwaway instants of conversation

you tossed me out of pity.

Remember me?

I'm the girl you sat next to in high school,

the one whom you gave a handful of candy hearts

(crumbs for a street pigeon).

I'm the girl you nearly drove out of her mind

with your World War obsession, your coffee addiction,

your warm hands and your off-key songs,

your mahogany eyes.

Candy hearts?

Even thinking about you

gives me heartburn and stomach aches.

I'm a mess.