I’ve got plans to let you go,
To burn every memory
And scatter them beneath your window—
One day,

You’ll see what could’ve been.

I don’t have to change the names,
hide beneath hyperbole and metaphor,
or remove details to protect our guilt.

Neither one of us is blameless;
we both created a storm that left behind lifetimes of wreckage.

And I dare not pretend this is in honor
of the beauty we were in the beginning.

No—

this is an ode to a tragedy that will always be:
the you and me that we became.