Quite Ironic, isn't it?

I still remember how the railings felt,

The ones we used lean against at the bus stop.

We would grab the rusted bars 

And lean back and scream against

The cold air.

The feeling of your hand in mine will forever

Be imprinted on my fingertips 

And so will our warm breath against the chilly atmosphere.

We had something precious, something amazing, something–

Mystical, Magical!

We would sing as buildings whirred past us

And we wouldn't care about the looks that the 

Other passengers gave us.

And even as we went our separate ways,

Me to my fancy waitress job, and you to yours at Target,

We were still inseparable.

Gosh, I wish we were still inseparable.

Why do my guts feel like 

They have been ripped out of my jeans,

just because you haven't shown up today

Or yesterday, or the whole week?

The season changed and so did you.

The warmer the temperature,

The colder your heart.

Quite ironic, isn't it? 

Now I'm just another girl at the bus stop?

And the bus stop is just another way of travel?

I replay you over and over and over and over in my head.

Trying to convince myself we're not soulmates.

But then I remember how your lips 

Would turn up just a little further on the left side when you smiled,

And how your head would tilt back just a few degrees

When you laughed, showing off your prominent Adam's Apple.

And why why WHY can't I stop thinking about you?

What we had only lasted a few months, right?

I'm obviously not worthy of your time anymore, right? 

Wrong.

I guess you're just not worthy of mine.

So, don't come back and apologize for completely ignoring

My calls and texts.

And as for my spiraling cray-cray delulu mind,

I guess I'll have to learn to deal with it.