it happened slow at first and then gradually faster
i was sitting on the tree branch,
second from the bottom
in my back yard
it was raining and i was eating a lemon popsickle
it was cold too, real cold
like the type of cold
that makes you wonder
why your outside eating
a lemon pop-sickle in january
i had a boyfriend then
not mr. right in the least
more like mr. extremely annoying
with awkward hair
that i fell into dramatically
only to have something to hold on to
i would scream into the phone
i didnt care if he listened, i knew he wasnt
he was probably thinking about my underwear,
that he had never seen
and too busy not thinking about my heart
ha had never seen that either
two weeks later
i sat on the tree branch,
second from the bottom
in my back yard eating a lemon popsickle
i wasn't so much eating as i was watching it
melt and run down my arm
into a sticky mess on my blue jeans
i was so busy being mad,
faking mad
i didnt care if he screwed my best friend,
any more than i would care if he screwed
one of the wicker rocking chairs chained to his front porch
the truth is i hated the way he thought he was always right
and how he smelt like old man and chili sometimes
and he wore shirts that made me want to vomit
two weeks later
i set now on a tree branch
second from the bottom
in my back yard
no lemon pop-sickle
because its almost summer now
and pop sickles melt fast when it warm outside
and the box on the third shelf of the freezer
that says lemon popsickles
is empty like my seat at sunday morning service
and i never really liked lemon pop-sickles
in the first place
i told him good bye, and the funny thing is
i didnt even feel bad for not feeling bad
he'll probably remember for a while what my voice sounded like
when i said i can't do this anymore
and i'm not even sure
if that is exactly what i said
but i do remember when you told me
that you wanted to give this a try
and i knew you werent thinking about
my underwear,
and i should probably pay attention now
because you actually listen to me when i talk
i can feel the summer wind coming,
sweeping underneath my feet as i sit half way off this tree branch
you are mr. amazing,
with perfect hair,
and blue eyes that always seem bluer than the skies,
and i feel like i never want to be mad
even prentend mad ever again
i can't really pin point how it happened
slow at first or gradually faster but
i dont think it really matters.