Nov 2016
I remember getting on the plane, remember packing my bags, leaving behind picture frames and old love letters, I remember closing the door behind me as he lay in the next room
I remember the distinct sound of the hinges hitting metal, seatbelt buckle clicking
The sound of my heels hitting the steps, walking upstairs to a new home
Thousands of miles away from him, I remember leaving
I remember sitting in a bar room, dimly lit with blue lights
I remember ordering my first drink and then my second and then my third
I do not remember ordering my fourth or my fifth
My bank account does however, the always brutal morning reminder when I didn’t have enough money to buy a black coffee
Lost love, I have found, will steal a lot of things from you
Comes in the night, creeping in, the thief of all thieves
Comes in the day time, and still with the light shining on his face, you are unaware
I remember the weeks that follow, sluggish and stagnant
By week four I had forgotten about the sound of hinges, seatbelts, zipping up suitcases
I have visited the same bar quite almost every night
I have started to collect memories of my fourth drink and my fifth
As my memory grew stronger in other places it weakened in important ones
I do not remember his taste, do not remember the color of his eyes
Green or blue, not brown not green not blue, maybe green, maybe blue
I do not remember breakfast, or lunch, dinner under blue lights
I remember the knocking on wood, my old green door vibrating
I had not known anyone in the city for so long that they would come to visit me
I remember standing, remember grabbing a jacket, remember the sound of a zipping it up
I remember the door swinging open
There he was, standing, very cold, pale, eyes a deep greenish blue
I remember getting on the plane
"I came to Boston to find you."
I remember packing my bags
"I knew you'd be here, you talked about it so much."
I remember closing the door behind me as he
"I'm sorry it took me so long."
I remember walking up stairs
I remember the blue lights
I remember standing very still, frozen in place like an ice sculpture
I invited him inside, I made him fresh coffee
I remember this
I remember this
I remember the distinct sound of the hinges hitting metal, seatbelt buckle clicking
The sound of my heels hitting the steps, walking upstairs to a new home
Thousands of miles away from him, I remember leaving
I remember sitting in a bar room, dimly lit with blue lights
I remember ordering my first drink and then my second and then my third
I do not remember ordering my fourth or my fifth
My bank account does however, the always brutal morning reminder when I didn’t have enough money to buy a black coffee
Lost love, I have found, will steal a lot of things from you
Comes in the night, creeping in, the thief of all thieves
Comes in the day time, and still with the light shining on his face, you are unaware
I remember the weeks that follow, sluggish and stagnant
By week four I had forgotten about the sound of hinges, seatbelts, zipping up suitcases
I have visited the same bar quite almost every night
I have started to collect memories of my fourth drink and my fifth
As my memory grew stronger in other places it weakened in important ones
I do not remember his taste, do not remember the color of his eyes
Green or blue, not brown not green not blue, maybe green, maybe blue
I do not remember breakfast, or lunch, dinner under blue lights
I remember the knocking on wood, my old green door vibrating
I had not known anyone in the city for so long that they would come to visit me
I remember standing, remember grabbing a jacket, remember the sound of a zipping it up
I remember the door swinging open
There he was, standing, very cold, pale, eyes a deep greenish blue
I remember getting on the plane
"I came to Boston to find you."
I remember packing my bags
"I knew you'd be here, you talked about it so much."
I remember closing the door behind me as he
"I'm sorry it took me so long."
I remember walking up stairs
I remember the blue lights
I remember standing very still, frozen in place like an ice sculpture
I invited him inside, I made him fresh coffee
I remember this
I remember this
