I. You never wrote a break up poem for your first love. You never fell in love again & you never will.
II. You never had a break up to write about with your second love. It was slow, soft, a gentle falling apart, an easy descent into whatever this is, whatever it means that you don't acknowledge their eyes anymore you pretend you never hear it when they laugh.
III. You haven't talked in weeks but it's hitting you now; someone who held you down on bed springs, someone who held you in their arms at all.
IV. You're mourning a death of months ago.
Written by
Steven Muir 20/Transgender Male/Santa Clarita, California