It's been a day since we parted.
There is a hole in my chest.
Last night, I slept with
the teddy bear he surprised me
with on Valentine's Day.
Worse yet, I'm wearing the necklace,
he gave me for my birthday.

There are remnants of him, everywhere.

On Monday, I'll have to see him in class,
and act like I'm not broken without him.
Act like I don't want him back.
Hold back tears so he doesn't see.
And to think I swore against crying over boys.

He wants to be friends; I want to be his.

Just a few months ago we were cuddling in his bedroom,
now I'm stuck sulking in my own.
I miss the taste of his lips,
and the feel of his skin,
and the look in his eyes,
back when I set a fire in his heart.
But yesterday he snuffed out
the remnants of a dwindling flame.