i said “im not going to marry you”
and you said “oh. do you want to get married?”
and i said “…no”**
i was standing in the shower in someone else’s house when i told you i couldnt be with you
and you said “please don’t do this”
and i said “i’m sorry”, like i had to
and i said “goodbye,’ like i had to but i didn’t have to i didn’t do it because i had to i did it because
there’s an itch
you get in your feet
when you realize that all you have to do to be happy is, do
what makes you happy
and i decided i wanted that more than you.
last night when it rained i remembered what it sounded like
when it rained on your tin roof
and how you slept with your breathing shallow,
in case your grandma with dementia walked in and
called you by your grandfather’s name again. i remembered
the day you put the latch on your door to keep her out.
i bet you kept it there to keep me out too.
if i were still there
i’d be riding my bike to you now,
down that long stretch of littered sidewalk,
past that path where you smoked joints behind people’s yards at night
into the driveway by
your house, frame light enough to be carried away by wind
but the wind came
and it blew me away instead.
if i were still there i’d say happy anniversary, i love you so much
if i were still there it would be a lie
but i’m here, so it’s not, because
i can only love you from here, seeing what a fool you are
forgiving you anyway
so happy valentine’s day to your aforementioned buddy
and happy valentine’s day to the high school that almost killed you
and happy valentine’s day to whatever music you’re making
whether its metal,
or blues,
happy valentine’s day to the safeway cashier
who knew what we were up to and the school theater whose floor we slept on
and the kisses snuck between sleeping bags
and the arms that for three years were my home
in your bed, by your star wars curtains
light every morning, breakfast with your mom
who added me on facebook
and could never spell my name
february last year i was in italy rinsing you out of my mouth
this year i’m in israel eating salt and reading old emails
taking a bath in an empty apartment
wondering when
you’re going to cut your hair.