It's hard to imagine that just a year ago everything was different.
You were showing me music
and how to play guitar
and how video games work
and we were talking about God
and you were tickling my feet
and giggles were spilling from my mouth like accidents
and your eyes
they were on fire.
It's hard to imagine that just a year ago I was wrapping your Christmas present.
But now
You only talk to me when we know no one is looking
and I can't ask you how your day at work was
and you steal glances at me
and you know it's wrong
and I can still see glimmers of that fire
and you drew this imaginary line between us
and you covered it in barbed wire and glass and broken promises and sadness
and I stay away because I can't stand to be hurt anymore.
But all I can remember
are the songs you used to sing to me
and the way your eyes wrinkle when you smile
and the promise I made to myself
that I would forget about it
and stop writing about you.