Positive

The wrinkled white paper sticks to my thighs

and I look at the posters on the wall.

The anatomy of a heart that I will not remember.

 

The lighting is more harsh than the words

of the man in the white coat.

Who knew being positive could be so negative?

 

I wonder if anyone will see the anatomy of my heart

and if it is different from the one on the wall

now that I am positive.

 

My phone reminds me that

The words that rolled from my tongue

ignored the fear in his voice.

My fingers brush across the screen dialing

a phantom number.

 

Moments scroll past on a background of white;

kids running in the park,

A new car, a new job,

Kisses on a boyfriend's cheek.

 

I refeel the kisses he placed on my cheek

and the laughter we had.

Before he knew and I knew

and everything became so positive.

 

I plug the phone in on my nightstand

and pull the covers over me.

I pretend the other side of the mattress

doesn't bother me anymore.

 

I wonder why this positive has to be so negative

because I don't feel bad about us or what we did

or how I loved him.

 

My fingers strum again over the numbers and letters

and I hit send before I can change my mind.

"I miss you."

 

I wonder if anyone will study the anatomy of my heart again

now that I am positive and he is gone.

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note: edited in response to feedback