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.