We were only meant to last for a moment.

We both knew we wouldn’t last for years like we spoke about drunkenly on my roof. 

There would be no house with an expensive oven, the kind that would cook pizza evenly. 

There would be no abundance of dogs. 

There would be no you and me in a rented apartment, watching the other sleep hoping neither of us choke on our own vomit. 

No late night text messages, no early morning coffee runs. 

No college breaks or laying in the sun. 

There was just you, me and a clock waiting to hit 90. 



Not all of us came to dance, 

some of us came to stand in the corner of the room,

sipping on whiskey trying to numb our minds.

Day-old Burritos

The city stayed awake and so did we.

We drank rum from cracked glasses

and ate day-old burritos.

I fell in love with how every pizza place was your favourite,

some for the crust, others toppings,

some for being kind and others for always being on time.

There were no complains, we always agreed and

with each kiss we exchanged, there was more familiarity.

No love was wasted, no trouble found,

no hearts broken, just wandering around.

We did nothing wrong, we made it through most dawns.

We did nothing wrong, time just hated us all along.

Loose Change

Today while I looked for some loose change in my wallet, I came across a picture of you.

You had a little smile and some of my lipstick on your face.

After a while of staring at the picture, I realised, I’d almost forgotten about that day.

Some of it came to mind.

Bits of conversations, Mexican food and piggy back rides.

A few weeks after we fell apart; I remembered it so well I could almost feel your lips on mine again.

The way your tee shirt felt and your hands.

My God, those hands.

But now, it was fading.

I couldn’t even recall our last kiss.

Maybe because I wasn’t aware that it would be our last.

Soon, I won’t even remember the colour of your tee shirt or what cologne you had on just like you won’t remember the song we danced to or any of my birthmarks.