I feel sick to my stomach when I think of you kissing anyone else
I'm sick with the torturous knowledge that none of them could ever hope to love you like
I did
I want to tell her that I held your heart in my hands for so long that it became commonplace until the day you decided you wanted it back
I want to call you a re-gifter
But I can't seem to get the bees out of my throat
Swallowing glass has to be less painful than this
Than watching you look for someone else like I haven't been standing right in front of you all this time
Yesterday was my first Thanksgiving without you in years
And I'm not sure I remember how to be thankful for anything else
I'm trying to remember the last sunset we saw together
The sky painted itself black and blue and I pretended not to identify with that
I've been writing poetry warning myself of this day for years
And taking this ring off my finger doesn't make it any less painful
or any easier to fool myself into thinking
that I haven't shoved the last 4 years of my life into a box underneath my bed
Like forgetting you is really that simple
I wonder if the ring will still fit by the time you come around again
I wonder if you'll come around again
at all
I want to tell those girls that you don't love them
I wonder if they've imagined what your bedroom looks like yet
I wonder if they know that
the valleys of your mattress are still waiting for me to come back
Waiting to transform against our weight and fill the spaces between your shoulders and my spine
I want to tell them that your walls watched us kiss so many times that it became as common as you turning the lights off
But none of that even matters anymore
and this is the saddest holiday of them all