I've a term-inal illness...

I'm sick
of these ****


exams

Stunned in the nucleus
of the microcosm we'd created,
I watched you
as you ceased to be what I knew
or wanted to know.

I waited
as you flew off the handle
of the door you were clutching
forever leaving;
always I shook
as you felt tears
I never cried
on your shoulder
and turned back
to the life you promised
you’d lead.

Promised.
I never wanted
that from you.
I never craved forever aloud
or begged for a guarantee.
I only wished for today
and tonight
and now. Not later.
So leave.

Grasp that handle.
It’s your only anchor to the here and now,
because I know you.

I know the beautiful words that fall
with certainty
won’t be surfacing tomorrow.  
I know the blood that pulses
between us
isn’t rhythmic all the time.
We’re unharmonious
in these evolved states.
But we fought ourselves down
to our most basic,
and we could've stay if we believed
in the primal integrity of yes.
But we can’t
and we don’t.

So we recant every sound we made together,
every motion that moved us
however briefly.
We implode.

We could've been a supernova,
but this,
this is a blackhole.