An Ode to Muses to Euterpe

The One I Pushed Away

I drive with my left hand because you told me to.
I am reminded of your touch each time I caress the wheel.
I only listen to the songs we played together,
When I am at my worst.
I don't drink
And you told me you'd stop.
I wish you got drunk and called me,
Now I wish I was drunk.
You liked that I always wore your favorite color on my nails,
Now they are colored black.
Did you read the book I lent you?
If you did,
Did you notice the creases I left in the pages for you to find?
You refused to give it back until I pried it from your grasp.
I didn't let you hold onto my favorite words.
You called me a crazy driver,
But you taught me everything I know.
You made it clear that we would never lay eyes on each other again,
But I hope you know
That your image is burned into my skull.
A projector plays our motion picture each time I see a yellow flower,
Or an orange tree.
I hope you know,
Mountain roads remind me of you
And that I still use the words you made up.
You always said I had tunnel vision
And that you saw things more clearly in the dark.
You stopped wearing your sunglasses
And I now prefer open streets.
I loved your hair and you cut it.
You loved my color and I dyed it.
You never gave me any gifts,
Except for our time.
I hope you think of me when you hear that song,
Or when you go to that place.
We never got to see the sunset.
I hope that you create a new memory from it
Because you won't be reminded of me.