It's 10:55 on December 27th and I swear that I
will be able to forget the constellation freckles on your arms
and how you shoved the "passive aggressive" note you asked me to write like I used to
into your bag and shrugged it off when I asked like--
like you don't know your own charm.

It told you to "stop messing around on Facebook and write your **** :)",
which may have been the last thing I would ever tell you to do--
I forget--
just like you forgot how much you missed my notes and reminders and all of it
(except for me).

So, if you can forget about every Sunday night
and the way your fingers danced on my ankle and my thigh,
then I can pretend I never loved you in a way I swore no one else could
because, to this day, I'm upset that you seem to think that there was anyone else besides you
in this endless universe that ever would
do.

I will forget the way you said my name when you were tired, frustrated, and alone,
and the way you asked me to get wine drunk,
because the 150 reasons that I was in love with you
are the same reasons that I need to let you go, too.

She
refuses
To reside
Inside
anyone’s
Solace
Especially
her own
She’s a
rare rose
With
the thorns
Still attached
She walks
a fine line
Somewhere
Along the line
Between pain
And fine wine
She always
found the time
And
Courage
To shine

you asked me not to hate you
and i don't
i hate the way you make me feel
you make me feel embarrassed
i don't tell my friends about you anymore
because who wants to say they're a night-time girlfriend
that their boyfriend hits them up about once week when the suns down
that they're the midnight, no one's around, backseat make-out
you make me feel like an idiot
because i still want to be with you
because even while writting this i know that if you hit me up tonight i would go with you