she remembers him.

blonde hair and lopsided smile
and a way of making people laugh-
it was no mystery why
he was wanted.

she tortures herself,
forcing herself to listen
to the electric guitars
in what would've been 'their song,'
to memorize his every sentiment
and the way the light
hit his eyes
just right,
to replay in her mind
the way he gave her his famous smile
and glanced uncomfortably around himself
and said
sorry.

she feels betrayed,
expecting too much and being left with
a half-finished love letter
and a picture frame shattered
from being thrown at her wall.
the words hurt
and so did the coolness in his voice
when he destroyed her
but what hurt the most
was seeing him the next day
standing with his friends
with a smile upon his lips
and no hint of tears.

she can't help but wonder
if he remembers.
had he reminisced about the dimmed lights
and the hopelessly cheesy love songs
that they had laughed at
together?
or was she a phase,
something to store in the attic
and leave collecting dust?
his laughter was sharp
and it pierced her.

she is alone,
standing only with the shade
of the teary clouds,
and he is ready for the world,
and his words
came too easily
and too transparent.

"i love you
and i'll miss you,
my love,
but i have other business to attend to,
good luck."