An Ode To What Used to Be

You had sad deep blue eyes

The kind that made my knees weak

And my heart concave. I would have been 

Okay drowning in their whirlpools. They 

Glistened when you spoke of our 

Futuristic plans. But dripped pools of 

Grief every time you couldn’t remember 

What you were living for.

 

You had a heart that I thought was as big as 

Mine. I could hear it thumping when I laid on

Your chest on those late fall nights, when you told me 

About the time you once ran over a bird on your drive 

Down the canyon—and cried at your terrible mistake.

I thought it was sweet. 

I thought I found someone who could also

Feel the ways of the world as I did. Who wasn’t 

Blind from the acidic toxins we were exposed to 

In previous love affairs. 

Who would have thought, four months later and 

Everything I still write sounds like you. That 

Every boy I kiss seems to smell like you. I keep

You living in my poetry, even though you don’t 

Deserve it, even though you are no longer the 

You, I once knew, but I am no longer the me

You thought was (at one point in time) the one.