We both left each other ruined.
I left you scared, sick and paranoid.
You left me alone, depressed and confused.
We both loved each other too hard
and I should have known
we all read Romeo and Juliet
and I knew that "violent delights have violent ends"
and yet when you said you loved me,
the sun was shining through the window
the world seemed so clear, so perfect.
And every time you drove me home, dropped me off down the block the sun was shining
except that night.
The moon was out and you didn't say you loved me
and I cried and slept in my mother's bed because she was away
and mine smelled like you.
And that one hallway smells like you,
and the Latin teacher smells like you,
and I cannot stop crying,
even though it's been almost a year,
and I don't even know how it will feel when the
warmth comes and it feels like those days you drove me home,
shades on, singing along to the radio and looking over at me.