You were beauty pageant plastic & I had day time TV; 'these are the days of your lives' problems.

And somehow in the sense of balancing equations, it equalled us.

Now you're gone

But the pages in notebooks,

Ink seeping through the pages (like it knows the story would never be a written perfection)

& the photographs that captured what I missed & sketches with you're eyes staring straight back at me (Even when reality just looks away)


Don't think you're been forgotten

I just wish I could change the times when I took you for granted.

Thinking you would always be there, that 'trust me' wouldn't let me fall.

But now that it's over I just sit here and remember.

Accompanied by old scars, new ones & the aftertaste of star-crossed-lovers