Poem Madness: you were more than my January, you were my New Year.

“I’ve avoided writing for days because I knew my next poem would be about you,
Just like my last poem was about you.
Every person we meet carries their own story,
And I turned your’s into braille, ripping my fingers into shreds reading you cover to cover.
It’s been six months since I last heard your voice, but I still remember your little brother’s name. 
Every time I see your favorite color, it’s never the right shade. 
To me you were everything,
But to you, I was just another girl that you had met, 
We were nothing more than two weeks of wine and Waffle House. 
Your life was a tangled web of mistakes you were too young to have already made,
And I allowed you to wrap me up in it. 
I shared my feelings for you at midnight as we sat in your kitchen drunk and alone.
And as soon as the words fell out, I wished that they hadn’t.
I kept apologizing for making things awkward,
But you made me look you in the eye, and whispered that everything was okay.
You pushed your lips against mine before I could process what was happening, 
You tasted like menthol's and forbidden fruit. 
Within weeks you were a stranger, who ignored my messages, 
Having moved onto bigger and better drunken nights. 
I tried telling myself that you were never mine, but it kept turning into the fact that I was never yours. 
It’s June and I still miss our January. 
Two weeks of wine and Waffle House,
Gin and tonic and deep conversations,
Vodka and laughter,
And I was left with nothing but a hungover heart.”

- N xx