A poem that I wrote for Poetry out loud this year.
|I hold my blue Otterbox encased cell phone,
as the screen flashes to a grey background.
I scroll down to see the funny nickname I gave you:
“Ice Cream”, and my heart flutters for just a moment,
Before it is crushed by the words you sended, “Stop talking to me.”
My heart sinks.
I think of the curious way you looked at me
when we were standing by the Student Parking lot
or the wrestling mats, when I talked
about my hopes and dreams as you did,
as the tears I want to shed begin to dry.
I recall the texts you sent me:
“I think you’re cute.”
“You’re something else, you know that?”
My screams of sorrow and anger become stuck in my throat.
Because after walking endlessly through the thick fog of my blinded love…
You really didn’t care for me as much as you said you did.
And so, I don’t dare look at you,
but at the background you’ve become.
I might say things that I will regret like:
“How could you?” or “You don’t understand!”
I might run away from our complicated friendship
Before you can snap back at me.
Remembering your skin causes my brain to
not remember how you made me happy.
New and old wounds open, tearing me apart
As I stare into the endless
Nothingness of my mistake:
Your brown eyes stare back at me,
forcing me to fall to my knees at your mercy,
as the chains around my neck and wrists tighten at your command.
For months, I have told you stories about my life and jokes of old,
Even going so far as to send you a lovable Kermit meme,
hearts surrounding the border.
All the while trying to impress you through my art and poetry,
Make you smile through my own awkwardness,
and laugh through my stupid jokes.
I poured all of my time, appreciation and love
into a cup of hot cocoa for you to drink,
in case you really needed it.
But after that mug had already overflowed,
I realized that you didn’t seem to care about the things I did for you.
“I think you’re cute.”
You spun a web of lies,
and I was stupid enough to fall into it.
Our relationship is constantly being put into question,
Like a court case that goes on for hours.
For now, we are only strangers,
who take small glances at each other,
as one remembers the forgotten,
while the other crumpled those memories into a ball,
throwing it to the bottom of the garbage bin like yesterday’s news.