Shames

It's such a shame that you don't think of me the same way. 

That you don't love me anymore. 

That these pictures are just lying on the floor under the ashes of the rest of your things. Right next to that flower you pinned on my chest. 

It's such a shame how quickly you moved on and away from me. 

As if we didn't even try. 

You promised we'd try. 

And now I'm stubbing out my cigarettes on the book you gave me what seems like an eternity ago. 

These memories are just another picture in the picture book.