Queen Of Hearts Poem by Leah Ayliffe

Do you ever think of me
when you're walking down the street
talking with the friends you like,
not waiting by the telephone.
I think I'm just a daydream
that slips in and out every so often
not really there, not waiting.
Sitting on the floor with a record on,
thinking this is all so romantic;
lonely hours not so sad next to a bottle of red wine,
my lips turn dark like raspberries.
This photograph is gorgeous to imagine
and tastes like vintage glory.
I see you laughing like a king at their funny jokes.
A flare of the wild one, the bad one with a big heart.
Holding close to you the girl who you call the queen of hearts.
The memory of us dancing in the club like we were the only ones
alive that night.
Smiling like an angel in the palms of your hands,
it felt good to know I was irresistible,
unforgettable on your lips, making out in the back of the crowd.
I really liked wearing your hat as you pushed me back against the wall.
Cool little fool, singing in the dark
pretending to be in love.
Just a strange hour of booze and desire
heated and ignited.
I do not remember such things anymore.
I do not think of it,
and yet today, I saw a hand being held
and I wondered...
Lovely stranger, do you ever think of me
when you're having a drink with another woman
talking the night away.
At the end of it all, walking home alone,
sitting on the floor, music playing -
Does my face appear like a dream of potential,
a dream of a youthful flirtation and smiles?
A dream to remain stuck in the mind,
destined not to be pursued.
You probably think of me sometimes,
cause it was you who whispered
'you are the queen of hearts'
Knowing I was never the queen of sticking around.