I remember when
you gave me that strange book
with a handwritten note
that I struggled to read over and over until
it was carved into my forehead like the freckles on yours.
how hard it was to smooth that scar
smoother than your lips the night they first brushed mine
like an accident
like when you said, "I love you."
You said you thought so
but now we know you thought wrong.
Like when you're too confident in a math problem
and you know it can't be right
but you don't know any other way so you just pretend it's okay.
Until it isn't anymore.
how you said it would be worth it.
And the Lumineers agreed with you
and they say it's worse to feel nothing than the ache
of the absence of your fingers on the rings like fences
around the house we built ou of straw and Elmer's Glue.
And the pages of the books you suggested kept turning,
black and white ballerinas making me jealous and inspired
to be who you wanted when you said, "I want you."
And I was supposed to be a ball of light
when I was just a pill to kill
the pain of your year of boredom and loneliness that sprouted,
a weed in that winding garden that couldn't be pulled,
only hidden behind a delicate flower that you made wilt.
There was too much sun but you hated the rain every time I basked in it.
And I gave you why I loved it
and you locked it in a box with my pride and my tears
that you collected in a pizza box over a soccer game.
And as the ball went back and forth
we were hypnotized by the summer time freedom
which was just glorified shackles.
I remember how you never lied,
the biggest lie I never believed.
And I hope that you wear the stupid shirt I got you
because I laced it with the scent of your betrayal.
And I remember
how I missed you until I couldn't anymore
because you can't blame a man for running from the imperfection he created.