Not About You

I painted my room yellow because I know how much you hated that color.

I burned all of your things in my backyard.

I thought I was rid of you.

But every time I look at the walls I remember why I painted them that color.

And every time I go outside I see the ashes of your things and remember

what they once were.

Even when I try to make nothing about you, everything is about you.

Isabelle Stewart