It hurts, my love.

It hurts, my love; I’m filled with sorrow.

While you are here (close but miles and miles away),

what can I say to change your mind so you’d stay?

Don’t go, my love…

Don’t go, my love, where I can’t follow.

Let’s think together of some other way. Stay.

I had hoped you'd grow fonder,
but instead you've gone farther away.


I wish you'd come back to me.

"i'm going to leave you behind"
that's funny coming from me.
i won't stay and you won't go,
it's a fact we both know.

Was I to turn to my side
Walking under moonlight
Would I see you there?
Matching my step?

No.
For you are gone,
You left without a word
after saying too much.

Was I to turn to my back
Walking by the streetlights
Would you be following me?
As in days gone by you did?

No.
For you have banished.
A body displaced, that casts
echoes in the depths of my brain.

And what would I see?
Heading into a tomorrow
punctured in waning sunlight
When I turn my step?
When I look ahead?

Nothing.
But shadows dancing
In your image, with your name
And cold stones as poles
of a merry-go-round.

i have had a bad habit of grieving things that haven't left yet, my love, and it will be the death of me. i will give you all the dusk skies that fit inside my fists — this the dullest aching that my heart can hold. one day, it will fade into the colors of my loneliest nights. i hope that tonight, i will choke on all the longing i'm yet to feel — and maybe when you leave, no breath will be loud enough stop the time in crowded airports. no breath will haunt you in manhattan's streets. no breath will beg for you to stay. i hope you find someone to love; i hope city lights fall softly on her neck as she hums your favorite song. i hope her skin tastes like daybreaks and poems. i hope sunsets live and die for her, and that you too, live and die for her and all the cosmic flickers in her eyes. i can already feel you loving her and maybe soon, i'll be forgotten, like this letter under your bed.

maybe soon, i, too, will forget the sound of your laughter. in death, it's the last sense to ever go.

i have a bad habit of grieving things that haven't left yet, and this letter is for when you say goodbye my love. this letter is for when you finally leave.