anymore.
the thought of you rarely ever
crosses my
mind.
i'm over it, i'm over you.
i've moved
on.
ignore,
the picture in my wallet,
the cards
you sent and signed,
displayed
on the table by the door.
i rarely
think of you when your birthday
comes around,
or when the seasons change
and i remember
you stepping into
that yellow dress
in springtime.
take no mind
to the watch you gave me
around my wrist,
inscribed with love,
ticking off the time
since i last saw you,
or the lingerie you left
behind
in the top drawer.
the silk still holding the perfume
you always wore.
i'm over you.
i've moved on.
No comments:
Post a Comment