love changes
love doesn't rub my cheeks gently like love used to
love doesn't hold my hand as tight as love used to
love doesn't smile a lot these days
love's eyes are full of uncertainty
love
doesn't share his thoughts anymore
love doesn't share his favorite songs
love doesn't joke freely like before

love is still love but
love doesn't miss me when i'm away
love used to text me with “I guess you're asleep, may tomorrow you be safe, let me know when you're awake, and goodnight!” when i fell asleep and forgot to text back
love doesn't notice me as much as love did a month ago

i'm not saying love is dead but
love doesn't say love like love did
love doesn't love like love did
love gets busier
love gets fader
love thought i was joking when i said “I give up”

love won't answer my texts
love won't pick up my calls

love now walks faster than me
love now speaks in a lower tone
love is now silent
love feels awkward seeing me
love now doesn't sound as excited
and as curious
love is now not as comfortable with my presence
is it normal for love?

or maybe love is dead?
love fell asleep one day and woke up not love
wrong love
maybe love has become somebody else's love
maybe love is still love but not for my love
maybe love is still love but love is tired
maybe love is still love but love is getting tired of my love

or maybe love is just dead.


love is now more brilliant
love stands tall in love's world
love is loved by so many loves
love forgets about love's love
love thrives
love grows
alone

this is not a goodbye,
this is my death, the epitome of my burried-7ft-under-the-ground
naive with both eyes wide ******* open
this, i said, is not a goodbye
this is my war, another version of daily sword cry between my body and the body of my body
both bleeding, both pleading
this, my friend, is never what a goodbye should look like
this is just me, hanging, begging, knocking and crawling,
just another tv show about breaking plates, or lost planes, or abandoned planets
just another boring 195 minutes episode of empty asylums, dry lips, and false alarms

or this is
the paragon of your goodbye,
alongside with my everyday asked question of “so what comes after death?”
or “how many nights was it my mom cried after the divorce?”
or “how do two souls that used to see each other bare drift away with full armor of clothes?”
or how much more do i have to pour, because i have dried all of my words, and metaphor,
there's only so many ways of describing how it feels like to be destroyed

(but this is time for me too to realize that without a goodbye, it's still
you
and me going straight back to
0
or -1
or -100)

i understand so this is your way of saying goodbye ; not even saying it at all
so there was no closure
just me left confused in a never ending roller coaster ride
so this is your way of saying goodbye ; you ******* erased the word 'good' out of it

i've been waking up smiling some of these days
school things are inevitable but it's lovely how i can do what i love while doing so.
i laughed a lot, smiled to every people i met on the street, god knows if they are going to be one of the chapters on my book someday.
i make new things, i grow myself a garden, i surround myself with lovable people, people who make jokes, people who hugs me lots, people who makes me feel a bit safer than being alone.
some of these days i even thought that i'm going to be fine aftermath, that i've forgotten how your hands felt like on the glove of my right hand, that i've suffered enough and this is my time to be okay, finally.
and this little blue bird told me to be happy, to know my worth and walk away, and that being okay will make you feel a little burst in your heart, that you'll regret, that you will not feel okay. i was told that what i pretend is what i will be. and that by showing you that i'm happy will **** you a bit slowly.
but i'm tired of pretending,
i'm tired of holding back tears,
i'm tired of smiling and holding back my tears,
i'm tired of the look on my friend's face everytime i said “i am finally happy”, because god they know i'm a bad liar
i'm tired
of pretending
i understand, that what i pretend is what i will be, and if i say that i'm happy there will come a day when my mind will finally believe me.
i've been saying “i'm happy” so much i'm not sure anymore my name is still the one my mother gave me.
there are some people who have been trying to hold my hand, you see, to ease the pain and make it less empty, but the burn marks on my right hand you left behind won't go away that easily.
the wound on my right shoulder is still gaping wide open.
and most of these nights i still wake up screaming your name, and your face, it's still framed beautifully on my black walls of dreams, still not going down the drain.
i understand, you're a fast track plane without a rear view mirror. you're not coming back. but please spare me, i can't help it that i'm still walking like a baby
i'm tired
and i don't understand
why the only one i'm killing with this happiness is
none other than me.

one day you will
find a girl who will scoop you whole
she will expand her arms knowing the giant that you are
and not feel tired holding it
she will tame the seas inside of you,
and hush the demon that is in you
one day
you will
find a girl who will nurture you true
she will bend low knowing **** well the hobbit that you are
and not feel little standing beside it
she will tuck your hair
out of your face
and say
she is staying
she is staying
you are not something for her to leave
and she will make a bed out of you
knowing she can make a throne out of someone new
but
she will make
a tiny
lovely warm bed
out of you
and she'll stay
she'll stay


don't leave her