Just know I’ve never
been angrier at some one
in my entire life.

Do you still think of me
when you chew your gum?
(A habit of mine you inherited.)
Do you remember that spearmint was my favourite
and peppermint makes me sneeze?
Does the feel on your lips remind you of my kiss?
Does the taste in your mouth remind you of me?

Do you still think of me
when you drive in your car?
(Because I still haven’t learnt how to drive.)
Do you listen to the mixtape I made
for our one month anniversary?
Do you hear me singing along to each song?
Do you see me sprawled out under you on the backseat?

Do you still think of me
when you spray your cologne?
(You started wearing more so I could smell it.)
Do you remember me leaning over the table
to sniff you in that crowded café?
Does the feel on your skin remind you of my touch?
Do you still remember my scent?

Do you still think of me
when you listen to that song?
(you know the one by the band we both loved.)
Do you remember listening to it in my bed
during the early hours of the morning?
Do the lyrics still remind you of me?
Do you remember singing it together
moments before we broke up?

He wrote her a song,
one she never heard;

instead of his piano
he ended up playing her.

I’ve learnt sometimes the things you want
aren’t necessarily what’s right.

I’ve learnt that if it isn’t right,
then there is reason not to want it.

I use to love words,
but it was yours that broke me.

I don’t know if any essay you could write
could put me back together again.

You ruined my favourite song,
by my favourite band
and I hate the fact
it makes you think of me,

because I’m so sick
of thinking about you.

He studied law,
so I wish he’d had fought
a harder case for me.