Noises

Every

time

I

hear

a sound outside

I imagine you

standing there,

that fucking look in your eyes

I seem to keep falling backwards into.

Telling me

we’ve got the right thing wrong

Or

it won’t be long

Or

it’ll be an eternity

because

time

acts

differently…

(in joke).

And my head says

Or maybe,

probably,

it won’t happen at all.

Because

when has time ever worked well for you?

And yet,

with every noise

my

heart

spills

hope

all

over

my

stupid

self.

I think

every car door,

every footstep,

every voice

is yours

And a jolt spreads across my static frame,

questions flooding this relentless brain.

I ask for logic, but all it gives me is hopeless romance.

Fuck.

That last sound was just someone bringing their bins in.

I know you aren’t there.

Outside my house.

Still

my heart explodes

a little

all the same.