The blaze is gone.
Wet flames, all that is left. Mud ash.
Your touch is foreign.
I can see it in your eyes- I failed you.
We used to chat, on Facebook, for so long.
Stale talk, all that is left. Burnt stash.
Our embrace now means nothing.
You know I see it too. It’s no more “we” but “you”.
I know it’s my fault. I’ve known all along.
You tried, with all you had. Never brash.
I could do better.
They don’t speak. But they sense it too.
This is the longest bond I have forged.
Or did I? What’s left? Pictures and emotional mash.
I don’t deserve you.
They knew this day was coming. I did too.
For a long time, I have been alone.
You showed a page I’d never read.
Pores through which I’d never bled.
With you, for an eternal second, I was at home.
I know what would happen.
Its inevitability is almost hilarious.
It has happened before. I have been here before.
Only, you have too. But not with me.
Hence, we will thread new territory.
One I am all too familiar with.
We had more than our own moments of intimate revelry.
We will bleed. I know I would. I will need stiches.
I wish we could hug over a cup’a coffee and shake hands.
I wish in a few years, we would laugh over the past months.
We would think of how much we grew and how much we out grew each other.
Lies. Falsehood. Sky bound castles.
I have grown. I see this coming and I feel nothing.
No pain. I bleed, without pain. Without strain.
I knew this would happen.
The first time you smiled, I knew this would happen.
So, when I say “It’s my fault, not yours”, I am not being flattering.
It is the truth. I don’t know how to do “this”.
Actually, I do. I just don’t want to.
And the mashed stashed of thoughts I need to scream is because of this.
You are a good person. You have shown me love.
You have shown me care. You have shown me tenderness.
You showed me reason. And I thank you, for showing me one thing:
I have grown. And I know I am not cut for this.
I have accepted, finally, who I am. And who I want to be.
Who I must be. Who I need to be.
What and who I am ready to sacrifice.
Love is a choice I make every day.
Love is a concept I learn every day.
Love is a feeling you articulated.
Love, is what I saw in you.
What I saw. But, no more.
Goodbye, my pillar. My anchor.
I sail to my lake. One I know all too well.
One in which I built the island on which I thrive.
I hope you feel pain. I hope you miss me.
I want to have meant something to you.
I want to have meant something.
I want to.
I hope you hate me. I hope you forget me.
I hope you ignore my calls. I hope you don’t reply my messages.
I hope you unfriend me. I hope you block me.
I hope you blacklist me.
I won’t forget you. My mind is my curse.
The same mind that doesn’t comprehend love.
The same that would look back at this moment in the future and mock raucously.
The same that needs you to hate me now.
Slap me. Plot against me.
Tell everyone how truly heartless I am.
Tell them the truth.
They don’t deserve to know. But you deserve to tell.
I am not a good person.
I don’t deserve your forgiveness.
So, don’t forgive me.
But, by all means, don’t ever think you could have done anything differently.
Because I knew how this would end.
I knew it all along. For months I fought.
And now, I’ve lost.
And it feels right.
Goodbye, my pillar.