A poem

Him

If I say I have no regrets

That might not be entirely true. 

He was married. 

I was not. 

We were friends

And then we were more. 

He travelled. 

We saw each other 

Only sometimes. 

And phone calls

Just checking in. 

I loved him, but not enough 

To want him daily. 

He was easy. 

Because he was hers. 

Not mine. 

But one day he showed up

At my door 

With sorrow and confusion

Sitting on his shoulders 

Like a heavy winter coat. 

I'm dying

He said. 

She's being selfish, worrying

About what her life will be 

Without me. 

I'm the one dying. 

I can't hold her up  

Because I'm crumbling. 

But I need to keep

All my pieces together. 

He sat on my steps

And cried tough guy tears. 

And in that moment

I fell in love with his

Dying soul. 

I drove him away 

On a foggy morning. 

'You mean the world to me.' 

The last words I heard him speak. 

All these years later

I know that sometimes

The world isn't enough. 

That regrets are floating there

In the fog. 

- kjsmith