Oxidize

We stood by the racks of cheap sunglasses

and the smell of diesel and fried pies.

You bought the heart that split in two,

a joke about how fast time flies.

The 'Best' stayed with me, the 'Friends' with you,

clattering against the ignition in the dark.

We laughed when the gold began to peel

and left a green, metallic mark.

Now I’m digging through a drawer of junk

and my thumb is stained a greasy black.

The jagged plastic edge is sharp and small,

waiting for a piece that isn’t coming back.