You’re not sorry,
So stop saying so.
There’s no gravity to your
Emptied apology;
I’m tired of dreaming
Psychotically,
Of ambiguity and opportunity.
This poem is a eulogy:
Sending off the desperation
Fueling me
To let go of your cold heart
That’s been just using me
To stoke the dying embers
Starved from emotional seclusion—
I’m trying so very hard not
To let myself live with the delusion
That you and me
Could ever be
Anything
Other than some LDR fling—
And those months (one through five)
Weren’t even real,
Because neither are we.
This love, was it ever alive?
At least I’m not.
After all, I’m just a thought
That you’re hoping your heart has forgot—
A figment from chaotic space
That you’re forcing yourself to eradicate,
Go ahead; take the eraser to my smiling face…
You’re not sorry,
We both know it isn’t true:
“Cause with every ‘I love you’ I’m now getting over you”
Jan 31, 2014
Jan 31, 2014 at 4:49 PM UTC
You’re not sorry,
So stop saying so.
There’s no gravity to your
Emptied apology;
I’m tired of dreaming
Psychotically,
Of ambiguity and opportunity.
This poem is a eulogy:
Sending off the desperation
Fueling me
To let go of your cold heart
That’s been just using me
To stoke the dying embers
Starved from emotional seclusion—
I’m trying so very hard not
To let myself live with the delusion
That you and me
Could ever be
Anything
Other than some LDR fling—
And those months (one through five)
Weren’t even real,
Because neither are we.
This love, was it ever alive?
At least I’m not.
After all, I’m just a thought
That you’re hoping your heart has forgot—
A figment from chaotic space
That you’re forcing yourself to eradicate,
Go ahead; take the eraser to my smiling face…
You’re not sorry,
We both know it isn’t true:
“Cause with every ‘I love you’ I’m now getting over you”
Volatile to the maximum.
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