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we walked away so slowly that we were aerodynamic.
his eyes will always be stuck in my memory,
the way that they looked so miserable
when i could see them through the glass,
when we both knew that things weren't going to last.
he put the palm of his hand against the divider
i met his with mine and started to cry.
there wouldn't be anymore nights where i could
trace the shape of his back and feel the soft skin of his chest.
his face, so angelic, will never be near mine again.
i turn away and walk across the gray carpet
trying to follow the pattern with my eyes
he knew i was never good at goodbyes
i was never good at unhappy endings.
