You had sad deep blue eyes
The kind that made my knees weak
And my heart concave. I would have beenÂ
Okay drowning in their whirlpools. TheyÂ
Glistened when you spoke of ourÂ
Futuristic plans. But dripped pools ofÂ
Grief every time you couldn’t rememberÂ
What you were living for.
You had a heart that I thought was as big asÂ
Mine. I could hear it thumping when I laid on
Your chest on those late fall nights, when you told meÂ
About the time you once ran over a bird on your driveÂ
Down the canyon—and cried at your terrible mistake.
I thought it was sweet.Â
I thought I found someone who could also
Feel the ways of the world as I did. Who wasn’tÂ
Blind from the acidic toxins we were exposed toÂ
In previous love affairs.Â
Who would have thought, four months later andÂ
Everything I still write sounds like you. ThatÂ
Every boy I kiss seems to smell like you. I keep
You living in my poetry, even though you don’tÂ
Deserve it, even though you are no longer theÂ
You, I once knew, but I am no longer the me
You thought was (at one point in time) the one.
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