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. 

I remember

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. 

I remember

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. 

'