I killed my butterfly.
Pure and sweet.
Her wings no tattered;
Heart can't beat.

She once flew proudly,
Way up high.
She now withers in shame;
Looking at the sky.

She remembers this pain
From long ago.
She thought it was gone,
Buried deep below.

But it rose to the surface
to disrupt life.
Creates stinging, ****** marks,
A rusty box knife.

Deep breathes, a sigh;
Releasing her pain.
Another one is needed,
To keep her sane.

Once beautiful and kind,
Now ready to decay.
Her essence defaced.
I killed her today.

You see, forgetting you
is not a one time thing
it's a constant daily battle
stop thinking about him
remember the times
he stood you up
remember the times
he broke your heart
remember the things
he said in his anger
remember the way
he left you all alone
remember how
he gave no explanation
oh but remember
the roses he brought you
remember the late night conversations
remember the first time
he told you he loved you
remember the secrets
he confided in you
no, stop
stop
remember what's good for you
remember he's not good for you
remember what you deserve
forget him every day
every morning when you wake up
and your brain wants to bring him up
remember the nights you spent
crying on your bed
remember your best friend
cursing his name
remember your mother
cursing herself for not stopping you
remember your brother
cursing himself for not protecting you
remember the days at the hospital
the pills, the drops, the shots
remember what is best for you
he is not best for you
remember that
and forget him
every year
every month
every week
every day
every second
if that's what it takes

I long to be your friend again,
Anything but the radio silence you give me.
But I look at you and I feel nothing but love
I still don't know how I'm supposed to
Make it all go away, the pain and love.
The memories still make me smile and might leave a
Bitter aftertaste, but I'd never regret anything.
I just look at you and feel nothing but love,
No amount of heartbreak or screams into nothingness
Will ever let me hate you, and I hope I never have to.
So until next time. . .

We used to sit in your parent's basement
with your two dogs on their little beds
in the corner by the old desktop computer,
wooden hand-me-down grandmother cabinetry,
lace doilies underneath all the candles
on the coffee table. I made you turn out the lights.
We would sit there and pretend
that we could find something better to do
than kiss between commercials
or talk about all the things we used
to dream about in high school, how I
got mine and how yours were like
the back bumper of a car that got left
out in the rain too long-- a little rusty.

Your kissing was a little rusty,
but I let it go because you didn't make fun
of me ordering a double grilled cheese
on our first date. You also didn't judge
when I got drips on my dress
from my ice cream cone. I can still
remember the way you'd yell at me
for stopping too far out at intersections,
laughing how I was gonna get us killed
one day, but I think
you just really loved to hear me sing
over you. I think you really loved

me, and here I was playing teeter
totter on curbs in little jean shorts
with a guy who gave me a slice
of leftover pizza. Here I was, burning
down your own ambitions because
they didn't seem as glittery as my own,
because you didn't quite match all the sketches,
all the plans I had on my map. Because
if we were to draw straws I always thought
you would come up a little short.
I think you really loved me and I left you
like a penny in between that couch
we used to sit on.

Throwing rocks into the winter river.
Ice as thin as a child's soul's skin
Carries not the weight
Of History's oldest weapon.

Like a paperless poem it shatters,
Floating away with the fleeing stream.
Water needs no windows.
Nothing is outside to its within.