I would steal his Broncos hat.
I'd slip it over my braids,
then peer out from under the bill.
He would smile and pull me close.
When no one was around, we would make out for hours.
At the fair, he would hold my hand on every ride.
Then kiss me at the top.
We would share a smoke and vapes,
one drag at a time.
We would sit in each others arms,
and listen to old pop and rock.

Now I wear my dad's old Yankees hat,
pulled low over my eyes,
with no one to laugh with.
And there's no one to share my coffee with.
Now during the fair,
I see him around.
He'll smile and nod in my direction.
I sit alone on the edge of my roof,
going through a whole pack of smokes alone.
I write sad, pity poems about myself.
Missing him because after two year, he left.

I wonder how long my new bae and I can last?