pocket

there’s a part of me not even I know

a pocket of dust and glitter

uncoverable only by experience 

and love

and loss 

one day it’ll burst and there will be a layer of myself everywhere

the truest and purest 

I still

I still find myself thinking of you,

I’ll be on the bus and my chest will tighten

I’ll be choosing my cereal and feel the realisation again

you are not mine

and never were

I still find myself thinking of the moments

when we cried laughing

and soaked each other 

when we fell over in the shower

and when we sat with feet over knees 

and head over heels

I still find myself glad it happened but 

the irreversibility of you

stains me

selfish

selfish

self-less 

an endless stretch inbetween 

head wrapped inwards, 

without a glance to those

who are suffering

have suffered 

will suffer 

because what’s the point

you will always see yourself first 

and me third

even if it’s the tiniest of things

I notice

I will take note 

I would love to be notified when you’re going to let me down

it would hurt a lot less