Residual salt water in the corners of my eyes,

that he mistook for blue last Thursday night.

While I was off getting high with a guy I’d started to like,

he decided to pull up, unaware of events to come.

Did so much damage,

he doesn’t have a single regret, but you know that I do.

There was a haze in the shape of a halo hanging

above his head that I made out in the dim glow 

of Eric’s old LEDs

before he grabbed my waist and pulled me to him,

whispering promises lost to the darkness closing in.

After, the arrows flew,

piercing me worse than his gaze ever did.

I was left in the wake of a fantasy, a fever dream,

what-could-have-beens.

He’s been distant ever since.