Cassiopeia

I used to look up at the stars with you,
And in them, see your eyes.
I memorized the constellations that you liked
but now I can’t recall them for my life.

I used to keep the tchotchkes you gave me
but they now reside in the trash
I used to
wake up to your voice and fall asleep to it,
but now it’s just a memory
and I can barely keep it.

I used to
crave the rush of closeness,
hopelessly intense.
Used to
think we were on the same page but
our stories don’t make sense.

In a rage, I
took down all our pictures
cleared the storage you took up,
I burned what made me think of you
because it made me feel tough.
And no, I didn’t leave, but I wanted something gone
I figured distance stops the heart from growing fond.

But now I
crave all of the memories
I trained myself to lose.
Maybe if I’d been happy
I’d be a better girl to you.

Now you’re looking at the girls
who I will always want to be,
and maybe it is so
that soon
you’re compelled
to look at me identically.