Monday.

She remembers his face so clearly

Like a swift breath of air

Except the air was not fresh

No, it was a breath of cigarette smoke

Life threatening, cloudy, yet she kept coming back for more

Tuesday.

She remembers when they spoke

The words flowed out of his mouth like honey, smooth and sweet

She could taste the way he said hello

Savor the movement of his lips

Swallow down his syllables

Her words hesitated like a pill, rough and hard to swallow

And oh,  that pill hard to swallow

Her words were stuck, constrained in her throat

Shaky as if a natural disaster was surfacing

If only she had some honey to wash it down

Wednesday.

She remembers when she saw him

He was running circles in her head

At the same  time, though, avoiding her, cutting corners around her body

Averting his gaze, like they never even spoke

The smooth honey once pouring from his mouth was now deadly

Drowning her in rejection

Thursday.

She remembers the way she cried

Bullets of tears dripping down her cheeks

The release of pain onto her pillowcase

Hot, ragged breaths escaping her lungs

Only to be captured by her sobbing

Friday.

She remembers how her pain turned to anger

Mad at her stupidity

Mad at her feelings

Mostly mad at him

She remembers.