I sit in the bar quietly where I am docile, where I often softly wept nomadic tears of loneliness, I long to be held, to feel loved and alive, not empty, bereft, and alone. Desperately, I sought matches out, for a connection that was perfect, meant for them and I alone, an exhilarating circumstance, where two pairs of eyes would lock, they'd meet, and both our hearts would begin to fervently pound. But, in this bar, I have been expecting, I have been awaiting your arrival, your welcomed beeps became a cessation, fifteen minutes after you were meant to sidle in with a smile. You promised you’d be here, you’d been waiting so long to meet me, our discourse has been passionate and intellectual, potent and electric, lightning stimulated my heart each time I heard that tone, the sound to reassure me your interest was still there whether by the shining sunlight or the calming moon upon which I would dream and stare. I felt you may have been made for me, at least that’s what I hoped for, suspected, but now you’ve disappeared off the radar, I text my friends - one cruelly tells me your absence is expected. I feel lost, I feel used, I feel stupid, I feel dumb, if only you hadn’t gotten my hopes up, these tears wouldn’t have appeared, why did you run? Which actions of mine were so untoward, what about me is inherently wrong? Like you made yourself into a magic trick, I, too, will make these stinging tears vanish, I'll walk away, feigned pride in my stride, and if you'll call, I'll have nothing left to say, a man like you has no place in my life. © 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved. Image by LOC TRAN from Pixabay
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Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose 
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