good times bad times

an old relationship ends forever, over and over again.

How am I to remember the good times
when the    bad times       are crystallized behind glass?

An ugly piece                              situated upon a sleek shelf                                                                    within the walls of a                                   modern (“love”) museum                                                                          

The good times are                                     relegated to the recesses of
memory.
                      The bad times have
          etched themselves in time
                    and live comfortably,                                                                                    

                                                                nestled    in my
              front                    pocket.
I re-live every word
every moment
of the                          worst time
                   in real time
  on demand.
Oh, old love, I can’t
remove you from my             life
                          even as
                               my thumb
        hovers
         over              the button.