It has been exactly three weeks,
since the day I decided you were
no longer to my liking.
And just last night,
I finally decided it was time,
to cleanse my living spaces,
free them of the paraphernalia
of our, so-called love.

Three hoodies, a T'shirt.
Stuffed animals. A black fitted NY hat.
Two rings, a necklace.
The cross from your communion,
which I dented once,
testing its quality.
It's funny how things,
can look like the purest gold,
and flex like a simple copper.
Simple irony, to which we held true.

I can no longer listen to music,
without thinking of you.
Without comparing our problems,
to the melodies of the newest country songs.
But they're not our problems anymore.
I'm just dwelling on the past,
in order to stop the process of change.
In mid clean-up, I realize this.

I threw what ever remained,
of our past in the box,
and left the room.
Choked up by the mere thought,
of missing anything related to us.

One day you'll simply be a story line,
in the plot of my complicated teen years.
But until then, I'm happy with forgetting you.
One of these days, I'll be able to,
simply ship that ******* box back to you,
without a second thought,
but until then it will hide in my closet,
while the memories ferment,
in the back of my mind.