I have a hard time writing about the curve
Of that road that we drove down with wind in our hair
You let me unbuckle my seatbelt and stand with my whole body out the window
As you sped up and for a moment I was flying we were laughing and the sun made gold cascade around us

Maybe I don’t have such a hard time writing about that curve
And more a hard time thinking about you because
Good god do I love myself more
Now that you’re gone

I have a hard time writing about your eyes
Because I’ve blocked them from my memory
I remember your hair though
You dyed it a frightening highlighter green and blue
You’re roommates called you Captain Planet

I have a hard time writing about the bed
That I helped you buy and build and clothe
That I tangled myself in the sheets of
When you had to go to work at three am

That bed was warm and soft
And the last time I came over to your house I spent the night with your roommate not you
Because she actually wanted me around
And you were asleep when we came inside
And even when you saw me in the morning you didn’t say goodbye

So I have a hard time writing about that curve
Your eyes
The bed
And the fact that every time you touched my shoulder I didn't feel that flash of joy that I get when I look in her eyes.