If we were to meet again

I’d yell and beat my breast

Who the hell do you think you are?

You’re nobody, just like me –so stop

You’re not any better than I am

so don’t sing it to the rooftop.

If we were to meet again

I’d flash my face in yours and scream

It’s lonely at the top of a pile of nobodies

croaking that you’re somebody unique

beating your own drum, rat-a-tat-tat

for the invisible audience that you seek.

If we were to meet again..

I would tell you how much your friendship meant.

If we were to meet again..

I would hug you tightly.

If we were to meet again..

I would smile at you.

If we were to meet again..

I would talk continually with you.

If we were to meet again..

I would look into your smiling face.

If we were to meet again..

I would not make the same mistake.

If we were to meet again..

I would appreciate your kindness, words, and affection.

If we were to meet again..

I would make things right.

If we were to meet again..

And you only look on the past,

I hope you push it behind us, so we can start over, but only..

If we were to meet again.

if we were to meet again,

i'd imprint your face into my memories;

the mole under your right eye, the slight crease

on your forehead, the faded scar on the left side

of your nose, the way your hair always brushed into

your eyes, the way your eyes crinkled when you

smiled. i'd sear that moment into my memories.

if we were to meet again,

i'd say i'm sorry

for all the years i left you waiting

in this very same spot all those years ago.

i wonder if you felt this same way;

endless longing for something that no longer

exists, desire for nothing more than to see each

other again. enduring all these suffocating feelings

of pain, loneliness, & sadness all while clinging

onto the hope that one day i'll return to you.

replaying the memories we once shared over &

over & over again until you've replayed them so

many times, you can no longer bear it, but at the

same time you can't let them go.

if we were to meet again,

i'd be back on that hill where i first met you,

watching you smile under the moonlight

as you turned back to look at me again.

i'd be back on that hill where i still am, waiting

endlessly. & i'm living a life where i'm wondering

when the end will come, all while waiting for you.

if we were to meet again,

& you were to say you never wanted to see

me again, i'd say okay & i'd let you go.

because you should be happy, even if that means

it's not by my side.

i guess, it's my turn to wait for you.

even if you don't come back at all.

if we were to meet again,

i'd wait for you no matter how long it takes.

if we were to meet again, i'd pretend you didn't exist,

the memories can stay in my head,

the love i have for you locked away, in my heart

if we were to meet again, i'd avoid conversation,

just because we could be something again, doesn't mean we have to,

even though i wish we could

if we were to meet again, and you tried to make me remember,

i would tell you, i forgot,

even though, i haven't

If we were to meet again

I would wear my pain

Hidden behind the anger on my face

All through past days

Where you found it and

God knows it was the only reason

You were curious enough to stay

If we were to meet again

I would still preach my brain

Never soul’s truth

Never tell the truth

Oh the amusement

You and I know you enjoyed it

Deciphering what I meant

From what I never said

If we were to meet again

I would drink to my last dime

Stumble through my sins

Scramble in the remains

Of things

That used to be

Those were the only times

You ever believed

My pain was true

My hope deceased

And not a joke

Or a curable disease

If we were to meet again

Oh Lord, I pray I am still damaged

Because the thought of saving me

Was the only reason you stayed

If we were to meet again

I wouldn’t change anything about you

Because I loved you

And I still do

If we were to meet again

I hope you still don’t love me too

I’d still prefer you leave

Than let me ruin you

If we were to meet again

Ha, I’ll do it all over

Again.

If we were to meet again, my heart would skip a beat at the sight of your face. I would know it was you by the blue of your eyes, the crookedness of your smile, and the scars I so deeply inflicted.

If we were to meet again, I would hope you would embrace me like we did so many times before. I wouldn’t deserve the warmth of your skin next to mine, but I could only hope for one last reminder.

If we were to meet again, I would tell you how my life had changed since we parted ways. And oh, how it was so much better without you in it.

If we were to meet again, maybe I wouldn't choke up

and forget every word I had planned to say.

If we were to meet again, maybe I wouldn't miss your question

after getting caught in the depth that was your emerald eyes.

If we were to meet again maybe, my thoughts would be filled

with something other than simply your words stuck in my mind.

If we were to meet again, maybe I wouldn't run away.

If we were to meet again maybe I would hang around a little longer

in the embrace of your arms in mine.

If we were to meet again, maybe you could convince

me not to flee from what I thought you had become.

If we were to meet again.

If we were to meet again, I’d take a picture of you in front of the brick building you lived in on Main Street. Your red lipstick would reflect off the lens in a glittering explosion of classy sass. You were undermined, my new favorite word. It’s your word: Taylor Swifts doppelgänger, your blond hair close enough to stroke.

If we were to meet again, I’d ask you about Fordham. What it’s like to have a higher purpose. I’d ask about the Manhattan journalist boyfriend, the silent chihuahua you’d somehow accrued on Main Street, in the brick apartment that somehow allowed dogs.

If we were to meet again, I’d ask after the vintage clothes and 90’s People magazines you collected for ten cents each. You like to post those to your Instagram account now, but modestly, not pretentiously. Nothing about you is pretentious, though you are pretty enough to be.

If we were to meet again, I’d ask how you do it. The perfect mix of class and vintage blouses. Maybe I need short blond hair in order to offset bright lipstick and make myself stand out; you, however, don’t care about how you are perceived. You live life in a bubble of oblivion, stopping only to ask yourself if this is what you like.

If we were to meet again, I’d ask why you stopped talking to me. Am I not interesting enough? I think it was, I’m not mysterious enough. I blurt out everything I think, regardless of whether it will sting. I’m too crass, too real. You are unreal, keeping silent and remaining untouchable.

If we were to meet again, I’d tell you about my writing. Maybe one day, you’ll read me in a magazine and post the clippings on your walls, like your French girls.

If we were to meet again, I'd throw olives at your head, I wouldn't even care. I don't know why I'm imagining olives, but now that I think about it, they'd be perfect, as it'd be annoying and demeaning, but also you could probably laugh about it later with your new girlfriend. If I was certain that everything we had built together would crumble into dust, that we'd never see eye to eye again, that I was free to burn that last bridge, I think I would do it, just to get that last bit of closure.

If we were to meet again, I'd actually keep a ready jar of olives in my handbag like a total maniac, so I could quickly pull them out and start bombarding your stupid pea coat as soon as you'd say hello. You know what you did. My days, I can't imagine how therapeutic it'd be. I hope some would hit you in the face, or fall through your collar, inside the shirt, so that you'd have smelly olive grime on bare skin, and no choice but to go home and shower before getting on with your day.

I fell in love with a girl on the subway that day, granted you fall in love so many times in life. I never knew that day she was going to be the biggest change I ever had. It was all so sudden. A great big ball tumbling down the hill of fuck you. At first it was great we were good friends I never told her how I was falling more and more in love everyday that is until I was now sitting in a hospital because finding your lover on the floor coughing up blood trying to breathe is not something I wish to see or ever thought I would see in my lifetime. She had always just been there even through the ugly, even when I was screaming over the phone about how much I hate this hell hole of a house with my abuser, my dad. She claimed I now got to see the ugly of her but I still thought she was beautiful. It only got worse from there. She told me if there is a God out there she wants him to beg for her forgivness of all those who suffered. I told her not to talk like that because it sounded to me like she was on closer to passing, I didn’t believe in God but she was my angel. I sat there holding her hand as I cried while Fast Car by Tracy Chapman played in the background. I sung it quietly it was her favorite song even with music in the background the silence was loud. Days passed and I knew she could stay no longer that night she woke me up to say her last goodbyes it was her time to go I begged her not to go I told her I had fell in love with her the first time we met on the subway. She said “well then fall in love with me again in the next life.” That was the last I ever heard from her there was no music no noise except the beeping of the machines that kept her alive. I drove around anywhere and nowhere that day playing Fast Car I think... It’s my favorite song too.

@kjbaum