I can't stop wondering and worrying.

Are you over me? Of course— but do you hate me? Probably not, you're too sweet. But I'm sure you found rage in your healing, and gods, you deserved to feel it.

Are you seeing someone new? I hope not—but if you are I hope they are treating you better.

I hope they laugh at all your jokes. I hope they always let go last when you hug. Always answer your calls at the first ring. Put you first. Save you as their lock screen. I hope they keep you warm at night and make you smile.

I hope they say I love you before it's too late.

So many things remind me of you now. Pool tables have especially been reminiscent. I desperately long to be back in the moment when we were at Divine Lake walking through the woods. When we were sharing stories, laughing, bonding. That was when I should have fallen in love with you. Sitting by the edge of the water watching the sunset. That was when I should have kissed you. Would I waste these beautiful scenes with you now? Despite the stinging of the cuts on my ankles from the vines, that day will always be the sweetest. How you used to always wrap your arms around me and hug me, not wanting to let go. I understand it now. How warm and safe, the bitter bliss of immortal memories. There's this picture I have you at the Japanese Tea Garden that's my favorite. You're so beautiful and radiant in it. You make all the colors of the fauna more vibrant with that grin. All of those times you held your hand out for me to hold, I curse myself for refusing. For being too embarrassed to be so vulnerable. Now I don't even have the memory hold on to.

I should have said it back
It haunts me
I should have filled a book with words for you
But I couldn't even say those three

I never could keep one
But now I can't stop writing
Hoping to write you out
With the rest of my thoughts

He wrote me beautiful words
And my pen had stilled so long
Took me to all my favorite places
I was so swept off my feet and didn't see

What kind of poet is blind to their own poetry?

Finally I was the muse and not the poet
And I didn't even know it

Palms opened up
Rose incense burning
I asked for a sign
And she gave me yearning
Now I crumble
Like the ashes burning

They say if you love something
To let it go
And if it was meant to be
It will come back
But if I didn't let go
Am I meant to come running back?
If I let go now to spare
That golden heart I already broke
Do I deserve it if you come back?