The lighting of the parking lot that night should have told me everything I needed to know about our fate.
The grass stains never came out of my favorite jeans from our picnic at the park which I guess I’m thankful for because I don’t need to be reminded of the way they came unbuttoned so easily that summer.
The scent of your cigarettes still linger on my sweatshirt and after four years, it’s probably time that I either wash it or throw it away.
The scent hasn’t spread to the rest of my clothes yet but somehow they seem just as tainted.
Have I told you that I only adventure during fall and winter now?
I can’t venture out in the summer without seeing the shade of your eyes in the sky and I’ve learned to despise the sun for that.
My walls and ceilings still release the sound of your laugh sometimes and it’s in those moments that I miss you the most.
I can’t wait for the day that they finally detox from the sound and are set free from the memories but I can understand why they’d want to hold onto it a little bit longer.
The spraypaint murals downtown are still painted over by your goofy grin in my mind and that gas station on the corner is still haunted with burning desire.
There isn’t much I can do to escape your ghost, but I swear to you that I’m trying.