Peanut Butter
Missed Connections in Boston
Just like peanut butter,
the words are stuck to the roof of my mouth.
They won’t come out now,
as they never did before.
I wish I could tell you how much I appreciated you and loved you and how I wanted you all for myself.
I’m sorry I couldn’t keep it together,
so I didn’t stick around,
but now I wish that I had.
Every once in a while I find myself thinking about you at hours on end.
Torture.
Maybe one day I’ll see you again.