last night I saw him,
for the first time
in months, and
I did not speak.
I saw his eyes on me
and turned away,
expressionless,
as if I didn’t even
notice. I felt
his thoughts and feelings,
his dark vibes
and creepy, lonely
emanations
from across the room.
twice I felt some
subterranean urge
rising inside myself
to talk to him, when
the situation gave rise
to an opportunity
to make a joke
or a comment
that he would uniquely
appreciate, but I stayed
resolute and
held my tongue.
no good could
come of it. we’ve
been down that path
before. plus
I didn’t want to give him
the satisfaction
of being the first
one to acknowledge
the other.
yes, it’s petty. I’m
petty around him.
that’s one of the many
reasons I refuse
to go back to the place
where I care
what he thinks.
I lived there for too long
and hated every
minute of it.
I successfully avoided him
until he left. good riddance
to bad rubbish. proof that
if you wait long enough,
the trash will
take itself out.
R. Brookes McKenzie 