Thinking Over Coffee

You called me.
Your voice reeked of drama and desperation;
Even more so than usual. 
Telling me things I have no business to care about.
That was the part that was out of the ordinary for even you.
I guess we can just chalk it up to being another one of your testosterone driven attempts to wreak havoc upon my heart.
The disappointment in your voice 
at the realization that I wasn't buying was fascinating. 
And if I take a moment to admit it, satisfying, even.
Every time the story of us crosses my mind,
Little by little the importance you once held in me 
is chipped and falling away.
This morning I peeled myself away from my needy bed 
and brewed my espresso with gusto that today will be the day.
I sit watching the steam rise from my "Happily Divorced" mug 
and follow it to the intersection of hope and hopeless.
How am I supposed to forget you 
when even my morning coffee reminds me of you?
Hot and comforting.
Strong, bold, yet sweet.
Something that even I am convinced 
that I cannot get through my day without.
I might as well be squeezing 
my perpetually bleeding wound of a heart in my hands.
My nails dig in deeper and I gasp at the realization that I'm 
still waiting for the day to come where you cross my mind 
and I can't remember how long it's been since the last time.
The day that I stop worrying that I'll never be able to create art as beautiful as your curiously gentle grin.
Maybe I was selfish by begging you to pick me for once;
Just like a kid reacts when something they love 
is being taken away from them.
Bewildered that trying to make you gone from my head 
has made you even more present.
It's as if you can feel me saying goodbye to you. 
Just when I feel that I might be winning,
You seem to feel the need to reach out to prove me wrong.
I'll make you a deal:
You do the remembering for once,
While I do the forgetting for a change.
Maybe then our hearts will finally be even.