them like the plague and you get panic attacks when they like a

photo of yours like what else do you do except miss the time when

they felt like part of you and not an invader / things were easier

back then you know / i am so lucky because losing you led me to

him and i am so lucky but i think things were just a little bit easier

/ not knowing love could hurt like that would have saved me so

much time and pain and tears and confusion and it was just easier

so i guess i want to know / do you know the secret to this / do you

know the answer / is there a way for me to miss you that will make

me less sad? / is there a way for me to miss you that will make it

clear i still don’t want you here? / even though i do i don’t / or is

my only option this large aching thing that jumps up and down on

my chest whenever i drink too much wine? / because it seems like

you’re doing fine and i’d like in on the secret

oh / what did you say / did you say you just forgot about it? /

forgot about me? / i mean i guess / i guess that works / too

i always come back to this:

your mouth, shaped like a promise.

my hands, reaching out to grab it.

you, letting it fall too soon.

me, swiping at thin air.

we were always just too far apart.

i wonder how you remember me.

am i still the soft, flowery girl

you once wrapped around your finger?

or is the space i take up in your mind surrounded

by all the fire and brimstone i have been blasting

at you since you sent my petals up in flames?

you made me

into a forgiving thing.

you turned my heart into

a punching bag,

and i didn’t try to stop it.

i watched you

mold me into something smaller

because i thought maybe

at some point you’d realize

you were hurting me.

and you did,

i just didn’t know

that was what you’d meant to do.

in a daydream

i have a daydream i like to visit where i tell you all that you did to

hurt me. i lay it out in simple terms. i have a fantasy that involves

me telling you that i hate you until my throat is raw. i like to

imagine that your face drops. that you feel guilty. maybe even a

little sad.

i have a daydream where i get the apology i deserve. i fantasize

about hearing the word “sorry” fall out of your mouth like a rock

because there’s finally some fucking weight behind it. i wonder if it

was pride or cruelty that kept it light as a feather.

there are daydreams of mine that convince me you are still a good