I'd say:
**** 'em
but that's not my character.

My character is to worry
and overthink
about things out of my hands and up to
Fate.

Fate is a funny thing;
it's cruel
but also caring - at times
and I guess we weren't meant to be,

'Meant to be' is a
construct
anyways. Is there really
only one person out there
that you're fated to be with?
'Cause I find it hard to believe

Hard to believe like
you and I
were 'meant to be'. Fated
to cross paths and fall in love
at least I think it was love-
but who really knows?
Maybe that's why I'm indifferent

I'm indifferent because- while
for me it really was love
my first everything- you
said it too easily. And
love is never easy
it's messy like;
well...
Fate or 'meant to be'.
There's really nothing I can do

Nothing I can do to fix this
roller-coaster disaster on steroids,
but that's over exaggerating,
'cause I don't know why
but I'm ok;
with Fate dividing us. Since we weren't
'meant to be' in this
mess, love. And that's fine,
it's ok.
Now you're too far away

Too far away both metaphorically
and literally. There's
a gap
that's impossible to cross
without Fate there to back us up
when we've gone over that ledge
and crossed that line. We aren't
meant to be- to go back
is impossible like love. So
I hope you're ok, are you fine? I
don't want to hurt you
but
there's no fixing this.
Without making it worse.

So I bide my time

fate says
we aren't 'meant to be'
love is too complicated
so i'm indifferent- to protect myself from
the pain that comes with my inability to do anything to
bridge the metaphorical and literal gap between us

So I bide my time

I began not to feel
That is why I stopped writing
I began to not care
I forgot what love was
I forgot what it meant to be depressed
I just felt a pit of nothing
Is this what it truly means to live.
To feel nothing.

Snap to
a snapshot of
that time I balanced on the curb
                   balanced between
                                          the sidewalk and the street

step after step
foot in front of the other
my hands out to each side
                         to distribute the weight of
   the burden on my shoulders weighing
lightly.
Surprisingly light,
my understanding was that it's usually
                      heavy.
Just not this time.

                                         The sidewalk and the street,
both perfectly distinct
         perfectly indifferent.
At times teetering
                swaying
                      for different reasons
as they present themselves.

  I'm perfectly contented
                   balancing on that curb.
At times I wish to walk
                           on either the sidewalk or the street
           one over the other.
And I'm greeted with
                                 either a honk or a fire hydrant.

A minor nuisance
An obstacle or action
that leaves me bitter
that renders me flushed with red.
           So I hop back on the curb
not rife with anger or sadness
                   but indifference

While it may be easy to pick
                                          the sidewalk or the street
the choice shouldn't consume you
                                 leave the curb to divide
follow where it takes you

i scream until my throat hurts
until it feels scratched
by your jagged fingernails

i scream until the pain numbs
and dulls a bit

i scream until i cry

tears uncontrollably streaming down my face

Abruptly you reached out and just as quickly, you turned away. Silent exits are your specialty and missing you is mine. Two years older and I am still trying to make sense of it all. The way we’d dance around each other and the doors that would slam shut on our unspoken feelings. How I tried to reach out, but you were pulled away by God knows what and I was left to pick up the pieces. Two years clean, but my heart still aches when I catch a glimpse of your face. And I still count the time by how long it’s been since I last saw you. You messaged me four nights ago and my hopes shot up so high they’ve not come down since. Though, once again we found ourselves dancing around each other and putting up walls draped with polite conversation. I wanted so badly to tear those walls down but you drifted away before I got the chance and gentle but firm arms kept me from running after you. Leaving me with a mind filled to the brim with things left unsaid and hands grasping for answers to shed light on your sudden and violent change of heart. Did it hurt you to talk to me? Do you believe me to be so disenchanted with you that you figured you could walk away with no disclosure and without a second glance? But, what you can’t see is the dull ache that has made its home in my chest ever since I met you, and how it has blossomed and blossomed each time I’ve had to let go of you. You can’t see the way your name is etched into the back of my mind , and how your face frequents my dreams. If only we could get on the same page. But, we are both reaching, and always missing. Pulled away by our own misconceptions and each too haunted by the memory of each other. What could have been sings us its relentless tune, but the hushed song of hope is what I strain to listen to.