This poem was the result...
It’s like an itch you cannot reach
Can’t relieve, can’t itch, clinging to your back
The gnawing sense that he’s behind you
Even though you’re alone with the water fountain
Watching it fall, splash into a collected pool
He would have appreciated its beauty
An enigmatic little smile upon his lips
That smile haunts your memories
A riddle which maddens you, weaving your thoughts into knots
You’ve tried to entangle them in your journal
Only to pour a deluge of words onto the page
Unable to gather them, hold them, or control them
They keep bleeding out of your pen
Just as thoughts of him bleed out of your head
A wound you cannot staunch or stop
Simply sit still and watch the flow
Steady and regular as the fall of water.
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