I think I understand hookups and one-night stands now.

The key to moving on is to replace all that stood before
until there stands nothing that may cause you to unravel.

Moment by moment,
conversation by conversation,  
I replace the replays,
I can't bear the thought
of another touching me, like I'm not yours.

I got another ring today, all big and loose.
It's funny how I picked this one,
it keeps slipping off my fingers like you did.
It's been two months since I last wore your ring.
I don't see a difference between them,
it feels the same on my thumb.
and that should be the end of it,
but oh well, I guess it isn't.

I walked to the grocery store, paused at an aisle,
took my time frowning over chocolate bars.
You used to get me Munch, and so I picked the Mars bar.

I don't skip meals now, (well, most days I don't)
and in place of our routine conversations,
I play a random show.

I drown noise with noise.

My days are decent.
I'm surrounded by mindless jibber jabber.
I participate.
I paste a bright smile.

“You look well now,” they say,
“Well, I am” I reply.
And I am fine. (I think I am?)
9/10 times I am.

Then in a random mundane moment,
memories of you resurface like a ring light and
in that single moment,
I let myself crumble.

“I don't want him back.
He's changed now.
So have you and so what?
If it's meant to be, it'll be.
He's the love of my life.
Well don't let him in,
when (not if) he comes back.

Do it from love, not for it.
You deserve happiness.
Both of you do.

You want love.
You are love.
The ocean doesn't look for its water,
Why will you look for what you have?

It is what it is.
and this too shall pass.”

So on and so forth my inner monologue goes on,
and I stare at my phone wondering if I can conjure you from my thoughts.

I am kinder now.
With myself, and everyone around.
I wish I were kinder to you, but I was just a child.

I know you're proud,
and I am of you too.

Do you think I can sculpt my favourite version of you?
Wait, no.
I already did that,
I loved all of you
and then everything fell apart.

My thoughts swirl and I let them play.
Incantations in my head
Obligatory 3 am, weary sighs, contempt and rage.
Oh, so much rage.
Where is the calming lull of sleep, when you need it to sedate your despair?

Resignation sets in, I play a familiar game.
I ask the universe and unbiasedly it delivers the same day.

"Universe, give me a sign, I'm really done this time.
Yellow flowers if he's coming back,
Dandelions if he's not.
Universe let me move on. This is the last time, "

In my version of He loves me, he loves me not
I break flowers, not petals.

I look for answers in colours and not action,
And then I saw a dozen Dandelions.

We never really knew each other.

Sure, we texted nonstop.
You stared at me in the halls.
But missed chances and glances were all we had.
We never had a real conversation.
(Maybe things would have been different if we did.)

All my memories of you
consist of my face lit by a bright screen,
sitting in the darkness of my bedroom,
wishing for you—desperately—at 11:11.

This is me now, coming forth from the clouds.  Recharging in silence, fully-powered I follow sounds.  Taking on a new form - had to once I outgrew the space allowed.  I've truly bloomed since my heart was locked in the dark and hostile underground.
Hades once hated me but never tried to vanquish me.  He tried to force nightmares on his subjects that I would replace with sweet dreams.  His ears would steam from not understanding.  I found the key, and my heart was released. I broke free and floated away with Persephone, happily.  Be wary of intentions behind the pomegranate seeds.  Listen to your heart, that beat lead me to where I needed to be.  True story.
Happy Eleven11

what did I wish for
at 11:11?

A million things, maybe, but none of them real.
They were barely wishes at all, just half-baked
whispers on this dead tongue.

what wish came true
at 11:11?

None of them, I think, for all of them
were said out loud. My mouth can only hold them
for so long before it bursts.

who heard me speak
at 11:11?

No one, I think, or everyone.
I can’t be sure (if it matters) who
was still awake.

“I wish,” I said, but I never finished.

what voice wished their half-wishes
at 11:11,
and was quiet again at 11:12.

We remember the fallen,
The generation that fought,
That answered the calling,
Giving each generation after the war,
A mind, a voice of a second thought.

We won't remember the fallen,
Of this generation, respect them not,
The answer to the offensive,
Lies and giving each other fake hope,
Who in this generation can scream I will stand on the defensive line,
In War and not on the we are insulted line.

Yes, born 1990, known as a millennial,
I have no respect for most of them,
Even most of the Generation Z.
Respect for the Boomers and Generation Alpha's,
They have a hard life, no Technology,
Educated and well traversed,
Survived and shaped the World, as we know,
With mistake made and learned.
Where the technology age,
Leaves the uneducated and cursed,
Creating and shaping the world into a wasteland,
Mistake are maded and not learning.

the moon burns brighter glaring at me
shamelessly shying away on your name

My 11:11s were made for sleepless nights
playing back all these scenes
when your heartbeat still melted against my ears,
every sigh that lingered on my temple,
every touch that lingered on my skin
11:11s were made for asking
this dimmed wall sconces what it would be like
to feel your body close the spaces,
to feel it next to mine once more,
of what it would be like to kiss you in the dark,
with complete abandonment,
like a wolf howling its heart out
to the moon after a sunset that lasted forever

It was 11:11, and now, I know
I should’ve closed my eyes
and kissed you that drunken April night,
and melted in your arms when I still had the chance.
Now, I close them, without you around,
wrestling with these fixations
trying to convince myself
that one more recall of the memories would be the last;
one more make-believe,
one more fantasy wouldn't hurt.
One more,

and one more,
and one more,
I said,

and it was 11:12
and suddenly,

it did.

it's 11:11!
make a wish
look, a shooting star!
make a wish
your eyelash is on your cheek!
make a wish
it's your birthday!
make a wish

every time i made a wish in the past
it was only for one thing
but now it's 11:13
and i no longer wish for you