You’re stuck in my heart like gum to the grooves of a shoe.
I never realized I was that piece of gum,
or that you had only loved me some.
We had thrived on codependence
and settled on a million kisses—
we were supposed to be called Mr. and Mrs.

And here I thought the germs were the better terms…
            It looks like we regret more than we forget,
                       and can only stick around until worn down.

Meet me somewhere between elixir and erasure—
if you’re ever there.
Were you ever?