Who knew that in a split second

Things could change

That maybe I could chance it.

Who knew that in a split second

You’d forget what you said.

I probably could have guessed it.

But who do I kid?

You never forgot,

The laughter left a feeling

Of something we’re not.

Of something we were

And never will be.

You told a taller lie,

Then that tree

We never climbed

You told a truth farther,

Than those stars we never found

When you believed in thirty-three

Lying together on the ground.

Yet I always knew you were an artist,

But I never knew you could erase

Every last smile

I’ve had on my face.

But who do I kid?

I never knew you

Not even for a little while.

Committing a common crime

Leaving only the scent of you

That will soon fade with time,

Just like the ink on the letters

You no longer have of mine.

Who knew?

That no matter what you do

Or what you say

That artist that loved you

Erased each and every day.

— Sarah Lemoine, CHHS Class of 2015