this is me telling you that I'm letting go
months of emotions running dry
have led to my unrelenting disinterest
and you'll tell me I'm selfish for it
but we both know that it was bound to happen
my love for you was toxic
and eventually turned to waste
but you didn’t want it
even when it rested in your palms
this is me giving you honesty
that years of cutting edge realism
are flourishing in my mind like a disease
and I am realizing things I could have never imagined-
for in the end I was not your moon and stars
and that’s alright
instead I was my own galaxy
eight planets and all, but in the end just a speck
in the epitome of universe in your eyes
this is me saying that I am no worse or better without you
we both bled from our wounds
but unlike you I have already licked mine clean
and begun draining into other sources
this is not like me,
for usually I tend to roll in the mud I create
until I am encased in my everlasting remorse
but like you’ve said before, I have changed
and while we grow apart I wish not to be bitter
nor sweet, for we were neither
generalizing our relationship
is insulting to its legacy
but I still wish to be remembered
as something, as anything
don't let me become a blank space
we were written in pen
long strokes of dark ink
that seemed endless
and now the paper is torn
bits and pieces
of what once was
bits and pieces
isn't that what we both are?