and I promised myself that I'd stop writing about you,
because you no longer deserved it.
---
but here I am, a month later, and I still compare
every new person I meet to you;
I still find pieces of you in song lyrics;
I still check my messages hoping that maybe you've changed
(either your mind, or your personality, or both).
here I am, a month later, still writing about you, love.
and I wish I wasn't.
I wish your name didn't make my cheeks turn slightly red;
I wish seeing pictures of you smiling with other people,
better people, didn't make my heart sink a little;
I wish I could convince myself that you're not worth it anymore.
---
we'll see how I'm doing next month.

i don't get so sad anymore, you know.
and sometimes i wish i could go back and do things better,
do things right,
but something in me knows it was supposed to end when it did.

you've changed, anyway.

i don't want to say that you're not the person i once knew,
because i'm sure that deep down, somewhere in there, you are,
but i'm a tired person,
and i lack the energy required
to dig down so deep through skin and bone
trying to find the worn out shards of a memory;
the last pieces of the first person to make me feel so terribly alive.

//

i hope you're happy.
i have always hoped that you would be happy.

but i don't get so sad anymore,
and i don't want to linger on the past.

(still i write poems about you, simply for the sake of writing).

//

every now and again,
i'll think about you,
you and everything and everyone else who shaped me.

and it's hard to believe it's been two years.

and it's hard to believe that i have grown,
but i have,
and the truth is that i don't need you anymore.

//

i don't get so sad anymore, you know.
things have gotten better.
you're gone and you don't care and i sometimes wonder if you ever did, but i'm telling you anyway that things have gotten better because i want to prove to myself that it was right to let you go,
that i needed to let you go to finally be free.

you made me feel alive in a way that tugged at my heart with a surprising aggression,
but i deserve better than that.

(a.m.)

simply put,
i want to hold you in that evanescent moment
during the formation of a thought, of an utterance;
the moment between not knowing what to say or think
and expressing it in perfect clarity.
the moment when, despite the words still being tangled up,
hidden in a fog,
the thought is still clear.
the moment when the words are forming, bubbling, exploding into life on the tip of your tongue,
but you have not yet set them free.

i want to hold you in this moment of beautiful silence,
of unspoken understanding,
of connecting through thoughts not yet complete,
and words not yet said.

a timeless instant,
a short-lived forever.

(a.m.)

i'll never know all the secrets you keep,
but i'll keep dreaming,
dreaming until it's 3am again and all i can think about is you.