one year ago this week

soaking carpet of yellow
spilled leaves, exposed trees
stepping out of your truck
into dead November
with no words left

i was eighteen all over again

we were nothing,
went nowhere,
developing,
but washed out by
the door we both pushed
and left
open,
you with force,
me with fear

the only photographs left
are those of me, alone,
you, involved again

this new girl’s cute

i’m over you,
but not over how it felt
felt to be intriguing,
admirable,
lovable

if only for a few hours
so few hours that they
feel like an eternity

a year

what i would have said if then were now:
i’m trying, i want you to understand, please be patient
what i would have done if then were now:
put my arms around you and shown you how important you felt to me 
how it would have ended if then were now:
me closing my door on you, asking you to leave

it didn’t make either of us happy   

one long year later,
i remember who we were

and i work hard to be unrecognizable

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