Don’t Cry by Aliice Black
Do you remember the way things were when we first met?
Roller-coasters beneath fireworks and every day was a celebration.
Every day was an anniversary, an outpouring display,
Of all of our shiniest bits. The ones that I like to nibble on.
Making love inside tents while rain dripped down through the trees,
All my memories of you are reels on repeat of giggling and holding each other close.
Walking across hot coals in your dad’s back yard. Climbing through the woods.
You and I were always climbing, but then there came a shift; I didn’t feel the hand reach back for me.
I don’t know when it was that I grasped forward and felt my palms fly through the air,
But suddenly you weren’t there and I turned into a gnashing and resentful whirl wind,
Of drinking myself stupid and watching the clock expectantly.
I miss the way we used to be. I miss the empty apartment with one couch,
Our room just a few boxes on the floor in the corner. I miss the way things were,
Before this became our present. I miss the calmness of your presence like a
San Diego ocean lulling me to sleep.