This has become the home stretch of one of the longest games you’ve ever played. The ball is my heart, and the bat you call your hands have squeezed every last game out of me.
I am worn out.
But I can make new flesh from this lesson you’ve taught me, and I will no longer need to miss you to feel alive.
I will no longer need to break my own heart by watching you channel the energies I bonded with chemically to another person just so I can feel something.
I will no longer find myself laying in bed at 3 am half asleep and expecting you to be doing the same and thinking “I ****** up, I need her.”
You did **** up, you do need me, but you don’t deserve the love I have to give.
The love that could have taught you how to swim, helped you gather the courage to face your families judgements, helped you graduate and make something of yourself just by showing you how much I believed in you.
I am making new flesh, shiny, durable flesh that you can no longer attach to, the port you used to own here is closed forever. Sealed off by respect for myself, by my family, by the thousands of other ports I opened when I was broken. You are no longer a relevant place for me to charge myself.

I suppose my final thought is as follows,

I do not regret you, your love taught me that there can be love, there can be a light that resonates within two hearts at the same time that can burn you if it’s squeezed by too much pressure.
That the light can die in one person and not another and the pain that person feels is because they are missing some of their light, and darkness is what actually burns.
That the light within me can be touched by others, and some of them can dim me, while others can enlighten me and make the light grow so big I have to share it with others. Babies can help grow the light inside you exponentially with their smell and soft new skin, similar to the new skin I have created for myself.
I will always, without a doubt in my mind, remember all that we’ve done, all that we promised we would do, all that we never got a chance to do that became frozen in time like pictures lost in a blazing fire.
I will love you forever, but you can no longer stay. You can no longer travel through the realms of my mind, and taint my memories with pain.

You cannot spill paint on my poetry.

You cannot exist here anymore.

This is your finale my love, it's time you take your bow.