I have your name written down on a note in my phone.
It's on a list of the boys that I've slept with.
I don't need photographs to remember you by,
because I have strong memories of how our skin touched so closely.
You contaminated my mind with false ideas of who we were.
When we were together, were we even together?
Perhaps we were only sleeping together.
It's uncomfortable how you left me so easily.
As if I meant nothing to you at all. Maybe that's just how it is.
But if we're being real, and true ,and honest,
I suppose you're really just a name
written down on a note in my phone,
on a list of the boys that I've slept with.