You took pictures of trash on a macro lens,

But never of me, not once.


I guess you found a piece of broken glass

And a dead leaf

More beautiful than me.


On our first “date” all you cared about was your trash art

And my visible skin.


Next time we go out, I thought, I will wear a turtleneck sweater.

This way, he may learn the color of my eyes

Compared to his knowledge of the current approximation of my cup size.


Now that you’re with her, you’ve changed,

Or maybe I was just holding you back.


You hold her hand in public. I’ve seen it.

You take her photo, too,

And not just to show off the hickies you gave her.


You must really think she’s beautiful.

I heard a rumor that you got kicked out of my building

For fucking her too loudly.


That’s weird,

I never felt the need to make a sound

When I was with you.


Sarah is a sophomore Photo major who writes poetry when boys hurt her feelings. She likes dog spotting, Martinelli’s apple juice, and holding the door for ungrateful people.