Do you think of me too?

I used to think about you

thinking about me

I wanted you to imagine me in the shower with you

even though I have been gone this long

or bent over your bed

all twisted and vulgar how we were

I wanted to go back and forth with our words

about how we missed this and that

Something like

I miss the way we would sneak around the playground at night

and screw in the tube slide

like some dirty, filthy skanks

And you would miss how I screamed

echoes of pleasure (or pain depending on the scenario)

I suppose I get lonely enough to think of all this

I had already managed to patch up that hole in my chest...

the one left over when you stole the piece of my heart

and wouldn't give it back

no matter how hard I begged.