1/2 Naked

I woke up in your shirt this morning,
½ naked on the ground.
Soft fabric still smelling of you,
Despite the hell I’ve been through.
It is the third spring since "us" turned into "me.”
And you are still ever present in my life.

Perhaps the word hate is a little too strong;
Yet my lazy horizontal vocabulary can't find a better word.
And my back aches, my head throbs.
Thinking of you on this ground.
But what hurts the most,
Is the fact that I choose not to remember.
That night or day.
That week or year.
Yesterday or today.
I chose to forget,
Which is why I did.

And I woke up in your shirt this morning.
The fabric still just as long and loose,
The brushed cotton smelling of your laughter.
It’s green, just not as emerald as I thought was.
Or would be.
Lying here without you.

I would love you again, hell I still do.
But I could never like you again.
No matter what you do.