I deleted all the pictures,
if you can't be here,
I don't want you to linger,
suggesting I deserve more
but you don't deem
me important enough,
suggesting love does not know time,
suggesting love does not make time,
I know the way you are
presenting things is a lie.

The stars loved me before
I became aware of your existence,
before you taught me
an invisible way to die,
and so why would I
want to lock our moments in history
when I know life could tear us apart
because you are not
holding onto my heart?

I could hoard memories of you,
paint the sky in constellations
of your bright eyes,
but how would that be fair to me?
Your love is a lukewarm affirmation,
lacking evidence and testimony,
scarce and rare,
barely there,
and now you understand why I cannot
give you my love as a weapon
you can use to destroy me.