Most of us write
of how bitter
our first kisses
tasted

Mine
tasted like
a limited edition candy
found in an old candyshop
after three years

Like
exhaled smoke
of  your first
mentholated cigarrete

it tasted
like home
after years of
being lost

Let's make a deal
that the smoke scented
taste of your tongue
will never leave mine.

I apologize for the stains on the pillow case,
I could not hold it in again.
The black that seeps into the flowers on the edge,
Are just from my eyes,
A little makeup remover should do the job fine.
The clothes missing from the closet are all mine, I swear.
I left your jerseys on the dresser, folded under the picture of us.
Please forgive the mess in the kitchen,
I began to make pancakes, but found myself in a heap on the floor,
While the batter bubbled under the stove.
I was sobbing because I am going to miss everything about this house.
That is no reason to stay here, I know that now.
I will miss Sundays, the smell of brunch from the hall,
And the glow of the tv when you fall asleep.
I found you countless times on the couch,
But never thought to move you to the bed.

The bathroom should be in good order,
The hair straightener will finally be out of your way.
I cleaned up the hair that I shed all over the house,
Because I know how much you hate it.
I began to vacuum the carpets, but I kept crying on them,
The hot tears would dry under the vacuum,
But I couldn't find the energy to keep going.

I know you won't understand why I am leaving,
Which is why this letter is for you,
And why I can't be here when you come home.
Your blue eyes would just drag me back to bed,
Like they have a hundred times.
I couldn't handle the grayness of your love anymore,
The way you couldn't commit to the distant future,
Or even to tomorrow.
We shared a house for ***** sake.
I hope you find the one you need,
I hope she cleans better than me,
I'm sorry that I am hurting you.
But I am happy that this is for me.
Sincerely,
Me

Stop trying to remember his scent, he smelled like summer and reminds you of the time he made you laugh so hard, you snorted out milk on that dead, hazy day.

2. Don't waste your day trying to decipher what colour his eyes were, it'll only remind you of the galaxies and constellations that you once saw in his eyes

3. Stop trying to retrace the shape of his mouth in the middle of the night, you'll choke on your tongue trying to taste the mint he devoured seconds before pulling you in for a kiss

4. Stop reliving the times you clasped hands together, the glass plate will fall off your trembling hands.

5. Burn this list, admit that the galaxies and constellations shining in his eyes were wilted, the one in yours are bursting with fire. Remember on the dead, hazy day his laugh sounded like nails running down a chalkboard. Remember when you kissed, the weeds growing from his mouth entangled the roses blooming in yours.

Realize that one day, another boy is going to come and plant daisies where he left behind thorns.

of this wilting wall the colour drub
souring sunbeams,of a foetal fragrance
to rickety unclosed blinds inslants
peregrinate,a cigar-stub
disintegrates,above,underdrawers club
the faintly sweating air with pinkness,
one pale dog behind a slopcaked shrub
painstakingly utters a slippery mess,
a star sleepily,feebly,scratches the sore
of morning.  But i am interested more
intricately in the delicate scorn
with which in a putrid window every day
almost leans a lady whose still-born
smile involves the comedy of decay,