There is nothing romantic about a love that used to be, a love that happened, and then ended, just like everything else in the world. People often romanticize tragedy, like the kiss that almost was, the “maybe” that could have been but will remain a “what if” forever. There is nothing beautiful about something that once was, but died. Ended. Failed.
Tell me about the roads
that no longer lead to you.
I’ve been running away for
some time, yet here you are
again, waiting for me,
keeping me afloat on this
journey we call falling.
But only in my dreams.
Only in my dreams.
When it rains, I open
all the windows in my
house hoping to catch
something, like a cold
or ideas for a new poem
or words you might have
murmured in the wind.
I’d nail myself by the
window if it meant
being able to fill
these hole you left.
The one with bad timing, the unavailable one, the inaccessible one, the one with baggage, the one who is all wrong for them. The one they think they see everywhere, the one they wonder about, the one they find themselves thinking about even when they wish they wouldn’t, even though they know they shouldn’t. Everyone has that one who has moved on, whom they tell themselves they’ve moved on from, and yet still makes their hearts skip and their stomachs flip and their fingers type flowery words into phones at ungodly hours.
Memory is flawed.
It dredges up only the best and the worst of things, and never the uneventful and mundane. I’m sure we’ve had a lot more memories, yet I can’t remember mornings that were as simple as making a cup of coffee or just us sitting beside you in silence. I’m sure there were days where we fought just so we could passionately make up, and nights that ended blissfully, but they are buried deep beneath the darkness of the cracks that ended us.
I am sorry if the latter is all I can remember. Our legacy deserves better, but memory is flawed, and I have nothing.
You tell me to meet you half way,
but not one step in my direction.
You tell me how desperately you
want me, but you don’t extend your
arms to pull me close. You say you
can’t live without me, but you live
beyond the ocean, beyond what my
eyes can behold. You say I am always
in your mind, but I share that space
with the hundred reasons why I am
not by your side. You plead with me
not to forget you, but I swear
I’ll keep trying till I do.