By Bekah Steimel 

Two-thirds of this wine bottle are missingthe contents can be found on this pageEvery poemEvery poem is a souvenir from my emotional travelsthey are bookmarks for my heartTonight has been a chapter of youtrying to detangle the mess of mewhen it comes to the best of youthe very worst poemssouvenirsbookmarksare jotted when I remember the worst of youBecause heartbreak is not angerbut an admissionI loved you enough to hand you the powerto break meand youcould have ground me into dustI loved you enoughto have disappearedI loved you enoughto stick to the better poems of the better youYour jolly rancher kisses and ripped prom dressthe way your nose crinkledwhen you laughedI loved you enoughto ignore my friendsto lose someAnd, I loved you enoughto lose youand keep you bookmarked in my heartImage source – wnyc.org