Borrowing

There are days
When I look
At your books lined up
In a row
On my shelf
Or your clothes tucked into
My dresser
When I think
Where have two years gone
I wonder
If
The ring I wear
Around my neck
Has sucked time into the hole in the middle
Where your finger
Used to occupy space
I wonder if you were wearing it
The day you crashed
And I know you were
You never took it off
I wonder how
They pulled it off
How it
Came to hang
Around my neck
And why
Why I was the one
To get to slide my finger
Through it
And run my hands over the ridges
And accept the dirty looks
From other girls
Who were better friends
To you
Because I got it
And they didn’t
Because they
Went to Scotland, and took pictures
And laughed with you
But they weren’t the ones
You told
About being betrayed
They weren’t the ones who understood
Why
You spent more time
In the rain
Than on the dance floor
They weren’t the ones
You showed books to
Or laughed with
Or shared secrets in Spanish with
They weren’t the ones
Who knew that
Your wave ring
Was you
They didn’t see it on day one
And say “I love that ring.”
They didn’t associate
You with the ring
They didn’t understand that
When you cut your hair short
Grew tougher skin
Bit back
That the ring was always
The same
Just like now
Your books
Your clothes
Your ring
I am borrowing them
Keeping them safe
Because they will
Never be mine
Even though you
Won’t ever wake up