She was magnificent.
She liked to hug.
Even when her arms were laden
With books and papers,
She’d drop them for me.
I remember her.
She liked to sing,
And do all the voices.
I’d sing along with her,
Sometimes,
In a quiet voice so she wouldn’t hear,
Because I **** at singing.
I remember…
The way she smelled.
The way it would cling to my jacket
And stay there for days.
Her scent became a drug.
Addictive.
She liked to lie in bed with me for hours on end.
There was no need for us to go anywhere.
We had all we needed,
Tangled in the white sheets with the peace signs,
Radiating heat.

She was magnificent!
Why did I have to lose her!?
I thought she loved me
Because I loved her.
Now that other girl gets her love when it’s
Rightfully mine.
I tried to hold on,
To keep her from getting lost,
When the whole time, she was screaming at me
To let go.

She is magnificent.
She doesn’t like to hug much anymore.
When her arms are laden with books or papers,
Or her girlfriend,
She’ll turn away.
I still **** at singing,
It just sounds like shrill screeching.
But I don’t sing, so no one can hear me.
I am nothing anymore.
I am her history.
A used-to-be.
I remember her.
I remember “I love you.”
She was beautiful.
Truly,
Truly
Beautiful.
She won’t let me tell her that anymore.