Good to know that’s what you think of me, you said
my goodbye dissolved into the blue May heat.

Exonerate the days on your bed,
                               promised land,
                               a dreamscape
                                                         cluttered by crystals
                                   and flowers severed
                 at the neck,
trying to make your life
something beautiful.

You’d be honored to know what I made of you:

waxflowers deathless,
hand stitched pages,
a lingering haunt,
Just A Girl echoing
       into your mother’s garden.

I gather vengeance
how the moon gathers light:
cycling from forgiveness, recollecting
every little thing
         on every little list
                 you ever made
                       recounting why

I am nothing to you,
pretending I am nothing to you.

If I am nothing to you
why can you not look me in the eye?

Are you grateful for the legacy?
                                                            You wanted beauty,
                                                            I made you poetry
                                          to remember how it felt
                             to be wanted.

When the time dripped slow as your aquarium
filtered my head into just a motion blur
                                                             of autumn’s haze 
                                                             to spring’s revelation
                               floating through
                               mystery snails,
                               cherub figurines,
                               empty futures,
               promises
left to fall behind shut eyes,
iconoclastic dreams.

My heart was full of freshwater,
now the walls caved, shattered, gutted
every creature inside.

I laid back in your bed,
made better promises to myself.

I was what you wanted,
so when you left
                                    I stole the summer,
                                    trailed the scent of freedom,
                                    realigned my heart
                                    to the hours of the sun.

Offering amnesty to the walls I’ve been talking to,
you can shoot a call whenever you want.
Leaving unlocked doors behind me,
                                     linger at my heels 
                                     only if you want to,
                                     first love.

This is the last time
I’ll pretend to be what you want.

I am becoming what I want,
meanwhile you are just a girl.