on the anniversary of your death
nothing much remarkable happened to me
i felt no immortal breath
no whisper of your presence, no sudden spirituality

too many years to count have passed me by
clear-cutting the memories like a bad disease
i stopped resisting it and i don’t know why
now i just do whatever i please…

had we met in another life
maybe the cliché simply wouldn’t apply
had we met before the dying age
maybe we would still be on the same page

on the anniversary of the day we met
nothing much happened that i want to talk about
i’m not gonna bore you by listing my regrets
one more crappy list that’s too long to count

i missed you horribly, and couldn’t wait to tell you 
all about my dreams
i momentarily forgot, in the thick of it all, 
that you were no longer here with me

am i the only one
who sees the irony here?
i should be the missing one
i’m the one with the fear

had we met in another life
i’d admit that you were right
right about everything
it wasn’t even worth the fight…