They say the sky is always gray in the winter,

But I don’t eat sushi on Wednesdays. And

Though our last words were civil, I

Still can’t get your makeup stains off my

Pillow case. The cold outside stiffens my joints

And the wind burns my face. You still

Have my shirt and I still can’t swim in the river

Without seeing your face when I close my

Eyes. All the things that I once had you gave

To him instead, but I know you still think of me

When you go to football games. People think

I cry at weddings because of the beauty, but it’s

Really just the sour taste of wine that lingers

In my mouth. Clichés make my stomach turn

Like the pages of the books I’ll never read for you

These poems that I write at 2:43 a.m. while

I watch How I Met Your Mother and listen

To The Avett Brothers in this candlelit room

Alone and hollow as my guitar that now only seems

To play sad songs. I hate going outside and seeing

All the colors I can’t dream in with my eyes black as the

Asphalt I see you standing on in the street with his hand in

Yours and your laugh that sounds sweeter than any music

Ever made. And while I search for words to scream and

Make you miss me the way I miss the secrets

We used to share and the nights I held you in my arms, I

Can only find the strength to utter one simple phrase.

‘I wrote something beautiful today.’