I don't know how to tell you
what I think about when I
close my eyes,
breathe in and out,
and sigh at every memory I have.

He was the wrong boy.
I was the wrong girl.
I don't want to remember
his hair, or the way he made me feel
like I could be completely honest.
I don't want to think about
how happy/sad/careless
I use to be
when his eyes changed color.
I hate.........
Well, I don't want to know anything
anymore. You told me the end, and
you
were
right.