The Window.

As it always was.
I walk the same path in a new time
still held by the shackles you forged.
I look in at you
and, still, you do not see me.
Perhaps you choose for me to
remain unseen
as the prospect of us
always seemed inconceivable.
That is what I’ll tell myself
to relieve the shame of my voyeurism
and unreturned glances
and grow accustomed to them
as the very last gift
you left me –
perpetual invisibility.

Maybe one day I’ll come through the door
and you will only recognize me
as a draft in the room.
For I can only recognize
my invisibility (your ignorance),
protects you from what we cannot have.

and the porcelain shards you once broke
of my fragile heart, i leave now before your feet
for you may not see me but you will always feel me.