May 2016
somehow, slowly
I fell out of it
maybe it was when
I opened my eyes to
prettier things, like
bicycles parked under
trees bearing red leaves,
like the way the willow branches
fell next to the lake, like
looking out of the window
at 6am and seeing the sky
light up, like
feeling the sun after the rain
the sweet humidity
maybe it was during all of those
moments, or maybe it was none
but I accidentally fell out of it
with you
I fell out of it
maybe it was when
I opened my eyes to
prettier things, like
bicycles parked under
trees bearing red leaves,
like the way the willow branches
fell next to the lake, like
looking out of the window
at 6am and seeing the sky
light up, like
feeling the sun after the rain
the sweet humidity
maybe it was during all of those
moments, or maybe it was none
but I accidentally fell out of it
with you
I learned that promises made in vulnerability are like butterfly wings, pretty and fragile and do not last. I'd like to say I miss you, but the truth is, I really don't, and I'd like to say I'm sorry for that, but the truth is, I'm really not.
