A craigslist haiku

I bought your TV,
But it was you I wanted
To take home with me.

Because I'll be too busy to post tomorrow and it's weighing on my brain

P.S., do you know?
I love you still. Time heals,
But does not erase.

A premature Wednesday haiku

Back from vacation,
New city, new life, new world,
But still the same me.

It's baaaack....

Yay for season 4! These are the real summer games!

Memory and Time

I don't remember when I stopped loving him, but I do remember when I started. I don't remember why I couldn't find the time to stay in touch, but I remember when I waited breathlessly for his phone calls. I don't remember what my last words to him were, but I do remember what it felt like to hear his voice jump and reach over those miles upon miles of telephone lines. I don't recall why I wanted out, or what finally prompted that decision, or how much I cried about that specifically, but I remember how much he hurt. I do remember that. Remember his broken-hearted look six months later and again, still broken-hearted, three years later. I remember running into him at the bar, surprised that he'd come into town without telling me; stumbled upon him, me in a cowboy hat and rhinestone necklace and big, dark sunglasses, laugh caught halfway down my throat as I came into the room and him, the usual black raincoat and conservative clothes, hair cropped close, face stricken as if he'd seen a ghost. I do remember that.

Smell and memory

I know it was baby lotion, but for some reason I was expecting vanilla, so it was vanilla I had a reaction to. It was a soft, sweet smell, nonetheless. I am 18, almost 19 in a few days, and I am standing by myself in my best friend's bedroom. I'm holding the itchy wool v-neck sweater that I lent her a few months back, clutching it in my left hand as I stand at her bookshelf and gently finger the photos and trinkets there with my right hand. The house is silent. I smell her vanilla perfume. I inhale deeply; it is a smell I will remember for the rest of my life, with which I will associate all sweet, faintly perfumed smells. I will be struck by the memory it conjures at inconvenient times in inappropriate locations. I will put it on myself to savor the familiarity, yet fight back tears when smelling it on others. This heady, wholesome, youthful smell will always stay heady, wholesome, and youthful in my mind, just as my dear friend will always stay 17.