playmobils, dvds, clockradios, plastic western memorabilia, stacks of doodles made just for me, all of that bull shit. i burn it all. i stand over the flaming pile of sentimentality to assure your existence is not only purged but incinerated. if you want nothing of me then i certainly must try to want nothing of you. i used to leave you drawings on your windshield whilst you were away at work and you would eagerly return the gesture with a romantic doodle of equal or lesser value. drawings, faded out movie tickets, a vintage record player. i surrender it all in hopes that the absence of these things will finally put an end to these damned sleepless nights. but whilst deconstructing our relationship i am plauged with an inexplicable fondness for a someone i vaguely remember to be you. the way your hair dropped over your cheek and them white head-phone wires providing explicit directions down your curves. bargainning in chinatown. drawing in the park. the smell of pretty milk. lapses in my memory that no fire will ever burn. "here we go", three movies in a row, and of course...the color green. how fitting. i forget for seconds how much you hate me and that look. that gaze you gave him recently from across the table. a shade of your eyes that i've never seen you exchange with mine. then my stomach swells and aches, i run out of cigarette, and my eyes sting. it doesn't take long for my mistakes to catch up with me. when you asked me to hit you. when i cheated on you. when i left you. I LEFT YOU. fuck. the results of them playback in my mind even quicker. where napping and cuddling are replaced by sizzling noodles i'll never eat and wide eyed gazes of hope have been reduced to nothing more than awkward glances and short words. "in a little while i'll only have to wave." so anyway, i surrender our memories to void. and feel sorry. feel guilty. it's me who should be burning. it's me that is burning. it's me who oughta be in that fire.
thanks for waiting.