my rose bowl champion is nothing but wilted.

Ten months ended over two years ago.
And a year and a half began to be built.

Ten months hung around long after it should've been forgotten.


And just two months ago
a lonely 4AM would lead to
nostalgic messages.

The champion would be slurring
from the three hours of drinks while I was
warped from the five CDs
that he had been made for us.

They were still spinning

in
my
mind.

By 6 the drinks weren't enough to be an excuse
and the affection came intentionally.
It was acid to an open wound
that would've been healed
had it not been for too much time
and too little remorse.

CD tape runs out.
Songs stop.
I breathe.
I breathe again.
I tell him, "you should go."
He laughs, "you don't mean that."
And I, "it's for the best."
So he, "what would you know about best?"
My lips quiver, "You're right, I only know about second."
His voice drops, "only when you slowed down."
I, "I've never been good at final stretches."
And then he knows that I was right
and it's time for him to go.
He says good night
he calls me baby.
I breathe a little less
but only because I'm keeping up with my heart.
So a notification on the right part of my screen appears
to let me know that my champion has met his match
and is drifting off to sleep.
I weep.
I weep.
I try to breathe.
I weep harder.
My mind's enraged
at how weak my heart is
over the realization of
how easily my body caves in.
I weep.
I weep.
I weep harder.
I think that nothing's ever going to take this away.
So here I'll be, four score and twenty years ahead,
weeping
breathing
mourning.

Then comes December,
the most magical time of the year.
My champion has been silent for a few weeks
and my year and a half seems to be going magically.
But I weep
I weep.
I weep harder.

I mourn the lack of ache
at someone's distance
because I hate realizing
that I have no one to miss
even with someone so perfect
right next to me.

But it was December
and December is magical
and it once again provided it self as such.


My champion's only rust now.
Our 1800 miles of distance won't ever
compare to the distance in my heart
at the embarrassment I feel when
I realize that he used to be everything.

There's so much better out there.
And

4am's aren't lonely
when you've got someone
who always makes you feel like
it's the first day of summer
and anything can happen
because love means it's
December all the time.

You've painted my sky,

I am devotedly your star
and our happy ending
is not all that far.

I like the way your hand fits mine

and I will hold your heart in mind.