How easy it is to scratch your name
into the blank crevices of
my scratch paper provided so kindly
by my professor.
How remorseful it is
to erase it, pretending like
you never really existed in the first
place.

Tonight I sit in the company
of another, acting as innocent
as I can.
Twinkling lights glitter in
the reflection of your glasses,
and for a moment, the glare is too
strong, so I close my eyes up tight.
And for a moment,
there you are,
sitting beside me instead of
the other, patiently waiting for me
to notice.

But when I open my eyes,
the other is still there, staring at me
wondering if I’ve completely lost my
marbles.
Please forgive me,
but I hear the train whistling in
the light breeze,
calling me home,
and I must answer it
and be gone.