I Wrote I Love You on a Napkin You Threw It Away

A cycle of poems «You Taught My Hands How to Pray on Your Body»

Crumpled paper in a coffee cup,
A whispered truth that didn’t stick.
The bar lights dim, the moment passed -
You left it there like love was trash.

I traced those words with shaking hands,
Three little ones, no grand demands.
Just ink and linen, soft and plain -
But you just smiled… and walked away.

I wrote “I love you” on a napkin, trembling, true,
Hoped the wind would carry every syllable to you.
But you folded up your coat, you tossed it in the bin -
Like my heart was just some litter caught beneath your skin.
No note, no call, no glance, no stay…
You threw my love - and me - away.

We sat in silence, rain tapped glass,
Your fingers drummed the table fast.
I wanted courage, bold and deep,
So I let my heartbeat speak.
Pen scraped paper, quiet plea -
“I love you” stared back at me.
You read it slow, then bit your lip,
Said, “That’s sweet,” and took one sip.
Then stood, collected all but mine -
Left my truth behind in line.

I watched it swirl inside the waste,
A vow dissolved without a taste.
No tears from you, no sound, no fight -
Just empty chairs and dying light.

I wrote “I love you” on a napkin, trembling, true,
Hoped the wind would carry every syllable to you.
But you folded up your coat, you tossed it in the bin -
Like my heart was just some litter caught beneath your skin.
No note, no call, no glance, no stay…
You threw my love - and me - away.

Now every caf; smells like fear,
And paper dreams dissolve right here.
I see your ghost in crowded rooms,
In strangers' hands and empty spoons.
Once tried again - a different name -
But couldn’t write the same.
‘Cause once you’ve bared your soul so bare,
And had it treated like the air…
You learn to fold your love inside,
Where no one sees, where no one tries.

Was it too much? Was it too fast?
Did my truth make your future crash?
Or were you never meant to stay -
Just passing through to steal my day?
I keep that booth, reserved in mind,
Where love was served… and left behind.
And if we meet, I won’t confess -
I’ll burn the napkin first. No less.

I wrote “I love you” on a napkin, raw and bare,
Offered up my universe upon the air.
You crumpled it like something wrong, forgot to say -
“That means the world” - or even, “Stay.”
No kiss, no lie, no “maybe someday”…
You threw my love - and me - away.

So here’s to all the words unsaid,
To every hope that died instead.
If love’s a gamble, risk, or bet -
Next time, I’ll write it… and forget.
No napkin throne, no public plea -
Just ashes where you used to be.