(it seemed like only yesterday)

one day ago--
summer.
you are writing me out
among similar constellations, unfolding
trajectories, none of which
can compete. the mix cd i made for you
(only to listen to alone when you drive at night, i insisted)
was always in your player
and your eyes
were always fixed on me.

two hours ago--
fall.
my lipgloss flavors are
permanently enscripted upon your senses
and you tell me
i am a wild orchid in your ugly swamp.
(no part of this world could be ugly with you in it.)
we are a game of hide and seek, but
it's only later that i realize
i never really stopped being 'it'.

three seconds ago--
--no. stop, rewind,
this isn't me, i don't want to exist in these moments.
winter. it was never my color and i am
an unsent christmas present buried in my closet
while you are sent from the heavens
and buried in her arms.
a voodoo doll that can't help
buried in the snow and i stand, leaning into the wind,
pretending you're creeping down my driveway

to pick me up
take me out
and hold me until the sun rises and vanishes the demons in the dark, again.