You crossed my mind on Monday,
too late to recall the remains of a burning flame that once kept me warm,
I woke up cold,
recalling the sweet shyness of your voice as you told me that you’d got glasses.
I recall the last time we talked,
like no time had passed at all,
like I had never broken your heart,
like you hadn’t kept a segment of my soul within yours for all these years.
but my life decided not to decline into the rags and pumpkins of the past,
because I used to be your princess,
and I like that you still treat me like I wear a tiara.