Does She Still Think of Me?

Does she still think of me?

If she does, well that’s weird

But since we’re already here

Could I make a request?

That the man in her thoughts

Is a man who was sort of like me

But substantially less of a mess

Not the rampaging idiot, far from his best

Who would go on to cause her a world of distress

Often too drunk and always too proud

And obsessed with the sound

Of his voice and the parts of her body he wasn’t allowed

Let the manifestation of me in her mind

Be a better, more sensitive, much taller guy

A man who tried harder than I did to please her

A man with some patience, less easily riled

I know we’re talking some kind of selective amnesia

But could the man she considers

Cut a worthier figure

Than that shallow, impetuous, arrogant child

Let the flickering fragments of me in her head

Be devoid of the idiot things that I said

Stick some nostalgic music on a black and white montage

Of the handful of moments

That the wheel span to ‘romance’

And I managed emotions

That I didn’t treat cheaply, or see as a weakness

Or sacrifice to my genius for sabotage

If she still thinks of me let it be without pain

Let there be tucked away in the folds of her brain

A man who’s not sulking or cheating or worse

May she think of my face as it was when we first started

Smiling together, when we started to click

Of a time when I acted much less of a dick

Of a time, pretty brief

When she was all I could see

And I wondered and hoped

She was thinking of me