I hate Broadway.
It reminds me too much of you.
Musicals won’t do,
every time I hear it, I picture you.
I hate singing, and
I know you loved that too.
Long island, I resent,
I’d never even breathe its air. Why?
Because I know your there...

Fireworks scare me,
‘cause I remember us laying down,
staring up at the sky,
hearts bursting, you smiling wide.
July 4th is torturous, where is the enjoyment?

I hate the beach.
You dragged me there all summer.
You knew I couldn’t swim,
but you would look at me
with seductive eyes,
as waves crash with the smell of salt.
Our love that ran like water,
put to a halt
as if beavers were building dams
in the vessels of my heart.

I hate this phone.
You used to call me every day.
I hate these reminders.
Wish I could catch my memories with a net.
I’d go back in time to change it all,
screw the butterfly effect.
The only thing that calmed me was the moon,
‘til I remembered
how much it truly meant to you.
I hate these reminders,
it was all something you valued.
I would hate myself too,
but I realized,
I meant nothing to you...