My Broken Heart

My most cherished conversations 

have been in the front seat of cars 

and my favorite memories

(and least favorite)

in the back seat.


I became vulnerable in both places,

some to my benefit, 

other times to my detriment.


On these lonely nights,

I want just anyone to care about me. 

Anyone at all. 

Doesn't matter who.


If I can't have him, you'll do.

But when I kiss you,

I will imagine I am kissing him.


My heart belongs to him,

but he doesn't want it 

so I have to find a way to move on.


I thought you could make me forget him,

but I miss him all the more now.


I remember our last conversation in the front seat

and how I bared my heart to him

and that final passionate kiss in his back seat.

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