I think of a green ribbon

with a gardenia lightly resting on top.

Of how the lace matches her eyes.

Of a pale wrist and how tight

he must have tied the knot.

I think of soft lids closing,

slowly,

over emerald orbs.

Of how they shined

with unshed tears

whenever I tried to pry.

I think of lingering hugs.

Of how I couldn't be held responsible

for once, twice, thrice.

Of the heartbeats pulsing

out of control.

Of the combinations of parts

singing loudly, yet

at the same pitch.

I think of a rotting gardenia

kept well hidden inside a tiny box

behind closet doors.

Of a worn out ribbon

that was once

the colour of freshly cut grass.

I think of childhood memories and old clothes,

all packed away in cardboard boxes.

Of a cheerleader's uniform resting

in display, behind glass,

between trophies.

I think of the day realization came

and as it came, I knew she'd left,

for good.

I always think about you, I wish I had said.