Ten

My mind is filled with broken promises.

Pretty broken things.

Like clocks that don’t tick tock.

I think there might even be a couple of wedding rings.

I think they belong to my mom and dad.

I remember that you wanted yours to have sapphire in it.

The bigger the better.

You wanted a rock.

I will always want to give it to you.

I can’t remember what diamond shape your favorite was, or which one you disliked.

It’s either circular or square.

I guess I’ll never know, now.

Maybe one day I’ll remember, but I doubt that will ever happen.

You used to leave me notes on my car.

You’d tuck them under my windshield wipers, in between classes.

You called me a pussy in one of them.

You found it a lot funnier than I did.

In another, you told me how much you love me.

I don’t think I have ever smiled that big.

I kept it hanging on my wall for months.

I took it down a few weeks ago and ripped it to shreds.

I couldn’t stand the thought of the look on my face as I read it.

Or the way that you used to feel about me.

Or seeing my name written in your cursive handwriting on the front.

I found a picture of you on my phone.

The only one that I forgot to delete.

I don’t have the heart to get rid of it now.

It might be the only one I’ll ever have again.

I’ll never look at it again.

I’m sorry that I kept it.

My chest always hurts.

It hurts when I think about what you do to him, with that body.

The body that way too many are familiar with.

My head is always spinning.

I can feel the nightmares coming to get me.

I think that it’s time to go.