hey, I'm not gonna write about you
this 2018. that's what I told my self.
but, i'm ending this
without bitterness.

and i know you're done with me
months ago.
and that i'm the only one
who's having a hard time.

hell, i was the only one who
thought we were real.
i want to believe that
at some point there's something special.

that you felt it.
that i wasn't the only one.
and that you were warmed.

all i wished was to heal you,
but i can't if you don't
want to be saved by me.
she can, of course.

but, thank you.
for cheap beers, and ugly *** playlist,
fast food deliveries at midnight,
and warm hugs.

and, sorry.
for drunk nights, and poetry,
subway sandwich at lunch,
and cold hugs.

no regrets, dear.
you were a lesson to me
and in knowing you,
i lost myself.