i used to be filled
with swarms of tickling butterflies-
a nervous, nauseous feeling that accompanied me everywhere i went,
along with the intense feeling that one of you might be somewhere up ahead.
now all i feel
is the autonomous cycle of my breath
and my pulse,
no longer too fast.

i haven’t been this honest
since the first month i knew you-
that sacred april
when the cherry blossoms bloomed for Easter
and then left as soon as they arrived,
and the wasps buzzed around my porch,
not daring to sting me.
the sun came out from its hiding place,  
and i wore white shoes.
oh, how i loved that spring.

what makes you so special;
that i sit and write poems for you every night?
what makes you so perfect;
that no one bothers to ask you what’s wrong?
what makes you so beautiful;
that i loved you before i knew you, and as i knew you, and after i knew you?

it’s crazy to think
that after all this time
we’ve lost that “another life” connection.
you don’t cry to me anymore
and i don’t try to fix you.
you aren’t the person i go to when i’m sad anymore,
because you don’t listen and give the best advice anymore.
we’re just two people
who used to have something
that i thought was so special.
i’m just the girl you go to for instant gratification
and you’re just the boy i can’t let go of.

in ten days it will have been a year
since the day you first spoke to me.
a year since you picked out the nail color that i wore for the first three weeks of my fifteenth year on this earth.
a year after we laughed at the boy who begged for me at every opportunity.
and a year after i ruined my life.

Why do you have this power over me?
I don’t love you
but you could ask for the world and I would get it for you.
Why do I let you use me?
I’m your *****-
you pay me in cheap conversations
and reassurance that I’ll find love one day.
I don’t want to do this
but yet here I go again,
back into our routine
just like you said.