She Doesn't

The crickets chirped in pattern.
Just as melodically, she said no. no. no.
Her every heartbeat was a yes.
Somehow, by God's Will alone, she didn't let go.

Now, wordless encounter after worldless encounter,
she can see everything that she was and wasn't
more than three years ago,
and she should hate you, but she doesn't.

When she hears your name, she should cringe,
and she does, but not for the right reason.
And when that certain time comes back around,
she should want to change the season.

She should never look at that old, dirt road
and think of you again,
but when her feet trod over the path,
here comes the pouring rain.

More than three years ago,
she didn't know what was there and what wasn't,
and even though she should loathe your existence,
she doesn't.