i promised myself id stop writing about
you, stop writing for you, but every chance
i get i scribble down every first we had, and
all the last. i stopped paying attention to the color of your eyes, along with your hands, and the way your teeth show when you smile. although, i still remember every detail, every scar, and bump.
it's been months since i last saw you, but today i thought of you. if you want honesty, i don't think i was ever in love, but something in me likes to believe i could have been. it's been months since i last saw you, and ive finally learned that not everyone you love you're meant to be with, that love can run deeper than just telling each other you do, and sometimes it's then that you realize you don't.
i hope that you still think of me, when you
see flowers on the side of the road, or look over at your passenger side. someday i want to know how it was when she touched you for the first time, and if you saw me when you closed your eyes and held her close. tell me about when you started smoking again and tasted me in every cigarette, how each night you woke up sweating because even in your dreams you couldn't get rid of me.
yes, i hope you still think of me, because i do still think of you, but i hope you've moved on. i always wanted better for you, i always wanted more. you were my fire, but also the rain that put it out.