I took our pictures down last night.
It still hurt.
After four months of not talking to you,
I decided it was time.
I had been meaning to do it,
but I had to find the time,
the heart
to actually take them down.
I tried not to look at them too much
when I would get ready in the morning
or before I would leave the house
as I passed by.
Last night,
I decided it was time.
I took the frames down from their shelves
and laid them on my bed.
I took my hand and wiped off the dust.
While doing so, my eyes scanned over our faces.
We were smiling.
We were happy.
It was us
and that was all that mattered.
We didn't need boys,
we didn't need anything.
We were best friends
and that was all that mattered.
We used to go shopping.
The antique area was the greatest.
We would walk the brick sidewalks and roads to the CD store,
the collectible store,
and even the vintage clothing store.
We passed the tattoo parlor,
and I joked about going in and making my appointment.
I almost did too.
But I didn't,
convinced it was too far away.
Only to actually get it a couple of months later.
Rides in the Jeep with the top down on the way to the private pool,
with Starbucks in the cup holder.
We talked about boys we liked,
daily events,
and had those days where we just texted song lyrics to each other.
It killed me that I couldn't tell you about my day
and I couldn't hear about yours when you called
everything off.
Now, I know it's partially my fault.
But I tried to patch it all up.
You were the one who called it all off,
without telling me.
I was left in the dust, trying.
I knew it was coming,
but I didn't want to believe it.
It was hard for me.
I couldn't talk to you everyday.
I couldn't tell you about my day nor hear about yours.
I had lost that privilege.
Four months.
It had taken me that long to take our pictures down.
Maybe I was holding onto invisible hope.
I had avoided them as much as possible in those four months though.
My hand hovered over the frame once more,
reminiscing and wishing
for those times again.
Knowing they'd never come again,
not between us,
I flipped the frames over.
I replaced the pictures and my heart ached.
Ached for the good times we had.
But it was something I had to do.
I never knew pictures could make it hurt so bad.
My day went from already ****** to even worse.
I took our pictures down last night,
and it still hurt.

She agreed to go with me to your graduation party so I wouldn't feel awkward, only knowing your two best friends.
I parked across the street and we walked up your slanted driveway.
A former student said hello to her first, before I could find you.
But you were right in front of me
wearing a blue polo, tucked into your khaki shorts and sport flip flops.
Once you finally looked up, I waited for him to finish speaking before saying, "Hey,"
You said "Hey guys," back and made simple conversation about being graduated. Others showed before you offered us food and drink and you greeted them with long hugs.
I stood, awkwardly thinking why we didn't get hugs.
You offered us drinks in the drive or food inside.
You even joked that there was alcohol in the cooler.
We could drink one as long as we didn't drive. Then you corrected it to get caught while driving after it was in our systems. I laughed and said I was the driver here and she could have one.
You laughed and pointed us to the food inside the doorway.
We made ourselves plates and grabbed a refreshment.
We made our way back to your side to say our goodbyes.
She stepped forward to hug with both arms, as you politely returned it.
Then you reached towards me, next to you, with both arms.
How I now wish I would've used both those arms.
But our position made it almost awkwardly impossible.
I reached out with my left and pulled you to my side.
You grabbed my shoulder and pulled me close. Your left arm lingered in front of me before dropping.
I believe you were thinking of turning into a two armed hug.
Now, I wish you would've. I wish I would've turned into it.
But I didn't.
You pulled my close one last time as my hand clasped your waist.
Your waist, oh so skinny.
That's what I noticed most.
The way your body felt in my hand.
It was all ribs.
It felt nice though.
It was comforting
and your body radiated towards me, keeping me company
even though it was hot and sticky out.
Oh, how I wish I could hug you again.
How I wish there was something there between us.
But there isn't.
I would be okay to be close friends with you,
getting to hang out with you more than just work.
How I wish I could be around you.

A memory makes smile.
That moment sparked a fire. It was everything I had wished for.
I always wanted those moments, within these years, that I could look back on, in 40 years, and laugh or even say how stupid I was. That's what I wanted.
I was such a cautious child though. I knew it was better to be safe rather than sorry.
Honestly, it was when I turned sixteen that I realized that I would rather be sorry than safe.
I'd rather regret something of spontaneous moments than regret not taking a chance at whatever the topic may be.
It was when I went fifteen mph over the speedlimit to beat you, yet still lose, did I feel that adrenaline. Maybe it was just for a moment, but I looked forward to it each day.
You and I would race back to our destination
and tease each other about as soon as our vehicles were put in park.
I didn't understand how in the hell you would beat me each day.
It was because you went sixty-five mph in a thirty-five zone.
It makes me smile.
It was a moment that sparked a fire.
I can now look back and laugh about how stupid I once was.
Maybe I am stupid, but I'm happy.

Believe in me
so I can believe in everything.

What I really need is a night without you
haunting me.
I can't have the memories
of those crazy nights,
the extraordinary days,
and all the things we did
swirl around my head and
not want you back.
Maybe I really need a bottle of Jack
or a triple shot of something strong
until I don't remember.
I don't care if they're back tomorrow,
I just need a break.
Keep those drinks coming until those memories melt away.
Let the truth, and the noise, and the alcohol collide.
Just let me get a little lost.

I regret everything.
I regret my decision to stay in sports,
give it one last shot to live out my dreams.
I regret twisting my knee.
I regret tearing my ACL and meniscus.
I regret having surgery.
Because if I could go back now and change it all from the beginning,
I wouldn't be here.
Stuck laying in my bed for at least two weeks
with my my leg sensitive and in pain.
Nothing to do but sleep and watch movies all day long.
I regret giving my life away for these three months
to make my knee heal.
I regret everything
because
I just want my life back.

What was your first thought when we met?
What were your thoughts when I tried my best to explain math to you?
What were your thoughts about our conversations?
The ones that involved laughter,
****** innuendos,
speaking of our favorite hobbies
and other various details about ourselves,
and the begging of hanging out?
What ran through your head as you asked me to help you
go to the bathroom?
What were you thinking when we ran into each other in public?
What were you thinking when we made plans to hang out?
What went through your head when we shared a hug?
What did your mind do when our faces were frozen
two inches apart?
What ran through your **** mind when
you all together stopped talking to me,
stopped returning my texts and calls?
What were your thoughts when we would see each other
after you dropped me?
The times you would always look at me with guilt,
and see me faking my emotions?
though you didn't know that
A moment's thought can change it all.
It can prove the simplest meanings of the most complicated analogies and situations.
What were your moments thoughts?
Tell me,
and I'll tell you mine.

You were going to teach me to snowboard
and watch me fall on my ***
uncountable times and laugh until I threw a snowball at your face.
I was going to watch you longboard as I licked the $2 ice cream cone I'd bought.
The one you insisted on licking before boarding off into the sunset.
It hurts that we act like none of this ever happened
because you didn't even tell me you were leaving.
You didn't get to see the makeup run down my face
or the tears escape my eyes.
I don't get to know the reason you left me alone.
Even though we act like we're both fine,
are you off feeling lonely
wondering where I am?
Because we up and dropped those dreams we once shared.
And though we act like we're both fine,
It's easy for me to put up a front
and act it all out.

It was you and me, baby
but that's not the case anymore.
My hair is in a loose knot atop my head
from a days activities.
Strands of my bangs and loose pieces
fly in the circulation of air around the room.
I couldn't think of a reason to stay and try,
besides the fact that I wasn't scared.
I never cared what people thought,
and now won't be the start.
Maybe I'm better off being sorry
than I would've been if I had played it safe.
Are you trying to be the hero
and save me from this heartbreak?
Thinking ignorance is bliss
when it really isn't.
Are you just being a shallow human being
that I once believed you weren't?
Things felt like they were going good
and then the bad thing took its toll.
I'm not the angel I used to be,
but you aren't the cause.
Possibly a piece to the puzzle of making me who I am,
though.
Should I be happy that I wasn't afraid
or
should I be sorry that I didn't play it safe?
I've said my piece.
There's nothing left to say.

stay....stay....stay
i'll let you break my heart as much as
you want
as long as you stay
stay....stay....stay

Does that smoke
clear me from your head?
Does being high make you forget me?
Does cannabis help wipe away your feelings
towards me?
You still have that glimmer of guilt in your blue eyes-
when you look for me when you think I'm not around to see you,
when you ignore me as we walk side by side.
Does the illicit drug help you forget the time
we wrapped our arms around each other, with your hands
lightly resting below my bra clasp, while you breathed in my scent
or
the time you leaned in and were about to ******* chapped lips?
Does the grass help you change your mind about how you really feel about me?
Does the alcohol help you sleep at night when you toss and turn with thoughts of me?
Or do I still haunt you through your choice of illicit substance use?