Coffee

I know you could have been something
Important,
Real,
Awful,
Because of the way I
wrote,
Write,
Have written,
For you.
Like I write lines for broken people
And you are broken enough
Not to recognize your own face
In a message sent too late.
When I am published
I want to send you the book
That details your inadequacy in bed
That details how much less
You made me feel
I want to hold your stupid face
Between my hands
And read it to you
Until you can understand
That you did not hurt me
But you could have.