You once said you’d never let yourself fall for me and I almost believed you. I’ve met strangers on sidewalks and they were more familiar to me than your footsteps at my door. I’ve drowned love letters in whiskeys and tonics and they all remain unsent, burned down my lungs as I tried to forget. I swear there was a time I could almost smell you in my sheets. How it once felt like you were the lingering smoke in my cup of coffee. The nights turned in and they weren’t as quiet as they used to be. In my heart they thundered and roared and poured ashes of rain, convincing myself that the only way I could ever get over you was to tell you that at least I tried. Yet I read thirty poems today, and they all reminded me of you. I can’t shake the nagging thought that surely you must have a reason, you always have a reason. But my insides feel like they’re tying themselves into knots and I’m all missing pieces. My heart feels like it has plucked off from a garden before it even had the chance to bloom. So maybe one day I’ll be standing in the front porch of my own home, taking in the morning breeze. I’ll be kissing my husband goodbye and good luck for work on the cheek and I’ll remember the way we used to be. How we loved and it was beautiful and how we burned through the break and fall. How unfair it was that despite that, we couldn’t make it after all.
“What I feel for you—it beats words. It beats worlds. I promise.” (Katherine Mansfield) Click To Tweet