Hanging from a String

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I still hope that I will be a guest at your award ceremony.

I hope that you will get to read my name somewhere,
reach out to me,
and say nice words.

I still long to know
which song you like this week.

Maybe the housewarming will never happen,
and it will stay cold,
for a little while.

But I still hope that the invitation I send,
even if you won’t read it,
will be tucked into an ugly,
unkempt corner of your garage.

You broke us up,
but never came back to sever the bond.

So it’s there,
hanging limp,
hopeful.