"He wears a mask and his face grows to fit it" "Shooting an Elephant" George Orwell
I wanted to name this poem after you but I call you no name but your own there is nothing to disguise you under you are always there and you were never here
You were easy to erase
There were no pictures that needed deleting sure, I kept the letter but it's not even remotely romantic save the memories from the night it was written
Be that as it may I still miss you like crazy and I know I have no right you were nothing to me
You made sure of that.
But in the dark of the night I still remember you your embrace your laugh the feeling of you pulling me close. Something I had never thought you'd do.
This life is a lonely one which I think we both know. I cherished the moments with you, the ones where I felt less alone. The times I could crawl out of my head, enjoy the moments. Laugh without hesitation
But this is a poem to say goodbye. To let you know; I'd build a shrine to you just to blow it up but I can't do that because this is New York and space is limited
I often wonder if I should reach out, imagine a world where you reach out to me but I stop my brain each time because this is goodbye.
There's no sense in ruining a thing that's already been ruined, something that was once so great so perfect, even. All things considered.
So, goodbye. I'll think of you singing along to those old songs under the false blue of the twinkle lights And no, I didn't love you but I might've come close