I think of you often
More often than I’d like to admit
The ifs and whys and hows of our-

Of our what?
We never really settled on the what
When I talk about you now you are just a code name, a pseudonym, a patient number

I deliver my friends countless never ending monologues about you
And although I never mention your name–the real one not the number–they know exactly who you are

And although I giggle at the nickname we chose for you
It only exists because I feel strange saying your actual one
Saying it would suggest I knew you
It would suggest that I was familiar with you
That at some point we surpassed being strangers
More importantly, it would remind me that even though I know the intimate details of your body, we are now estranged, again
Your once familiar name, now just stares at me in confusion, asking
”Who are you?”

I can’t answer
I can’t tell you who I am to you because the what was never established
We never made it that far
After two months I’d known you for two years
And after two years I’ve only known you for two months

It’s pathetic the way I mourn you
Disproportionate truly
But with these anonymous words, I can confess
I hope you feel the same
I hope my name makes you feel empty inside
Because saying it feels forbidden somehow
Like you can’t just call a stranger by their name

Maybe this would be the perfect time to say “right person wrong time”
And maybe I hope one day we’ll get the timing right
So I use these vague adverbs to avoid confessing that I wish our story gets a sequel

But
I don’t want to be stuck in a loop of Instagram stalking and internet searches
So I’m going to start saying your name
Because I need it to feel strange
And I need us to be strangers, again

I mourn what we could have been, what we will never be, and what I wish you’d never ruin.

these sentences are not full of love, or longing

all i have is heartache
and ear numbing cries
and oceans worth of tears

so i’ll put them into words
words i know you will never read
but words that will always comfort me

you ripped my heart out, robbed me of it
and how am i supposed to go on living
when no one’s pumping my blood for me
and how am i supposed to feel love
when the very person
that embodied my love
is no more

not for me
you are no longer
for me
by me
with me

so this is not a love poem
because you stole that four lettered word from me
this is, just, a poem

I thought i had grown older
Wiser
But when you entered my life again
Unexpectedly
I realized I wasn’t done growing
Healing
I would run back to you in a split second
Undoubtedly
Self respect thrown out the window
Instantly
Still knowing I’m just being fooled again
Unfortunately

do I simply
accept
my current state?

or can I go back
back to the old me

but maybe,
the old me is just that-
old
outdated

perhaps,
there’s a new me
one that I shall find

whatever I will become,
I don’t want it to be
this

and that’s enough motivation
to not give up

snow will fall,
rain will pour,
seconds will be counted
and time won't stop
for you
or me
but since you left, I have frozen.

all things go, but my heart.

I wanted to ask,
ask how you were doing today.
Because I felt you were having a hard time,
a hard time living.
But I was too much of a coward to ask,
ask how you were doing today.
Maybe tomorrow I will ask,
ask how you are doing that day.

I really am
Sick and tired
Of you

I really am
Sick and tired
Of holding on

I really am
Sick and tired
Of not moving on

I really am
Ready for
Something new

Du var som gruset
På en trottoar i december
Därför
Ville jag ha dig
För jag trodde det var du
Som hjälpte mig stå när gatan var hal
Men jag glömde tacka mina egna ben
Som hjälpte mig upp
Varje gång du misslyckades skydda mig
Från vinterns alla brutala fall
Men nu är våren här
Och jag ser dig inte
Men jag är inte ledsen
För jag vet
Att bland alla betydelselösa gruskorn
Finns någon som kommer pryda min trädgård
Och inte bara vara gruset på en trottoar

I wish I was in love, so I could write a love poem again.

I think about you still, fortunately.

I think about
how your hands would find my waist in a split second,
how your lips would reach for mine like magnets,
how your heart would beat faster every time I laid on your chest,
how our love seemed so perfectly flawed,
how we could have been living had I not broken your heart,
how you’re kissing someone else,
how you’re loving someone else,
how I lost you.

I think about you still, unfortunately.

sometimes
it will hurt
it will burn
it will break
and it will ache

sometimes
it will be
indifferent
and there will be
no one

but
nothing
nothing
nothing
lasts forever

other times
it will be
ok
and
remember these times
for they will
keep you going
when there is
suffering