I used to look forward
Now I find myself flipping to the back
Past the countless empty pages
Unfinished poems, unsent letters
To would-be recipients
Just to make sure you didn’t leave
Your mark here as well
Like you did on so much of what is mine
Or what used to be

What once I found to be
A sweet gesture, a special quirk
I now see as preconceived and conniving
A way to always be front and center
But the joke’s on you, friend
Because I’ve found a new way
To memorialize you
And for once it doesn’t involve ink
Or a broken spine