How you would always visit me with a single red rose.
I used to add the delicate flower to the vase full from your previous visits.
Now I look to the single rose in the vase as its ghostly form dwindles.
How you would tell me you wanted to be better as you inhale from your cigarette.
I would always lecture you of the harm you were doing to yourself,
But now I stay silent as I twist my body away from the smoke that escapes your lips.
How your lips would fill me with warmth when your finger tips felt so cold.
I used to describe you as more of a concept than a person.
Now I think of you as more of a metaphor than my boyfriend.
How you would hide your phone under your pillow as you promised transparency.
I used to toss and turn to get comfortable with that extra weight on our bed,
Now I sleep perfectly as I turn and settle facing away from you.
How you’d smile as you would so cryptically point out my floors.
I used to look up at you as you critiqued me so detailedly,
Now I look to my shoes and let your words fly straight over me.
How you would tell me you were all mine as you moved your hands away to rest in your pockets.
I used to create intricate plans to gain your touch and affection,
Now I shift in my seat as my body instinctively flinches from your touch.
How I stood up, the chair scraping against the tiled floor as I placed my napkin on the table and turned to walk to the door.
Before you might have chased me to the door and led me back inside.
But now you remain seated as I leave and call a taxi home.
How I let one tear fall from my eyes as I watch the city pass my eyes through the window of a taxi.
Before I could never make it past the gates.
Now I inhale a deep breath and promise myself that I won’t look back as I throw the last red petal out of the car window.
Just a sad poem about a dying relationship