I saw you on the subway earlier today
You asked me how I’ve been, and I almost told you
I almost told you how just about every night
I curl up in that old sweater you left in the back corner of my closet
With your favorite book (the one I’ve never liked), on your side of the bed
And how I would sit there for hours reading
and rereading your favorite parts
I almost told you how the paint on my walls is beginning to look a lot like the color of your eyes
(Even though your eyes are about 3 shades lighter)
And I almost told you how I broke down last Saturday
How I shredded every single picture of us
As if it got rid of the memories
And how I tore apart every love letter you’d ever written me
(After I read them over and over and over and over)
I almost told you how how I smashed your favorite mug against the floor of my kitchen
And how the crack in the tile almost looked like your crooked smile
And how I can no longer bring myself to look in the mirror because all I see
Is your faded compliments that litter my cheeks
And I almost told you how the frayed edges of the carpet in my living room
Are beginning to look a lot like that piece of hair that stuck out right against your forehead
And how that stain by my bed from that time you got mad at me and spilled the wine
No longer reminded me of that fight we had
But of the same deep red color that matted your lips
When I used to stain them with my red plum lipstick
And when I saw you on the subway earlier today
You asked me how I’ve been, and I almost told you
Almost