I remember the day I told you I'd found another
and you hung your head
because you knew in your heart of hearts
what had happened.

I remember the ice over your eyes
that February when you caught
a glimpse of me
and you resisted the urge to
break down and cry.

I remember the windows into his
soul, framed by my
regret
but nevertheless
I'd given myself to him in spirit
and soul.

I remember the fire behind your face
when you saw me with him
although he wasn't the one
who'd stolen my loyalty.

I remember your face
when your dad announced
I'd moved on to
someone he knew.

I remember the faint smell
of weed in his step
and the warmth of his
fingertips
gently grazing my
chlorine soaked shoulder.

I remember looking up
and seeing the sky
knowing that all of my fears
and dreams
and hopes
and prayers
could've reconciled this
but I chose to
ignore hope's desperate plea
and fuck myself over again.