I have called you
the best
and the worst,
strange now,
that I call you
nothing at all.
You are everywhere, but
I guess that’s a lie.
It’s not you,
I don’t know you,
[not anymore].
No,
you have been reduced to
the echoes
of nostalgia,
echoes
that persuade me to stitch up the best
of the last two years
and, looking at my Frankenstein-like creation, say
I want to go back
when I know better.
Estrangement.
You do not contact me,
are no longer interested
in what I eat
or what I write
or what I feel.
Estrangement.
I have done my best
to scrub you from my life,
as if you were not a person,
but a stubborn stain.
I have deleted, unfollowed, thrown away
anything related to you,
not because I wanted to,
only so I could
finally
get it into my head
that this is well and truly
Over.
I am doing all the right things
I suppose.
Logicking my way
through heartbreak
once more.
None of my exes can ever be friends,
the same scenes are played out
until the bitter end, and you
are no exception.
May 11, 2016
May 11, 2016 at 10:31 AM UTC
I have called you
the best
and the worst,
strange now,
that I call you
nothing at all.
You are everywhere, but
I guess that’s a lie.
It’s not you,
I don’t know you,
[not anymore].
No,
you have been reduced to
the echoes
of nostalgia,
echoes
that persuade me to stitch up the best
of the last two years
and, looking at my Frankenstein-like creation, say
I want to go back
when I know better.
Estrangement.
You do not contact me,
are no longer interested
in what I eat
or what I write
or what I feel.
Estrangement.
I have done my best
to scrub you from my life,
as if you were not a person,
but a stubborn stain.
I have deleted, unfollowed, thrown away
anything related to you,
not because I wanted to,
only so I could
finally
get it into my head
that this is well and truly
Over.
I am doing all the right things
I suppose.
Logicking my way
through heartbreak
once more.
None of my exes can ever be friends,
the same scenes are played out
until the bitter end, and you
are no exception.