You get over him
after you cut out his smile
from every picture you took together.
There’s no need to remind yourself
what it felt like
to be blinded by the sun.
You no longer need to live
in the shadow
cast by his harmful rays.

You get over him
when your fingers
don’t brush the air in anticipation
for hands
that won’t wrap around your own.
Frostbite will no longer turn your fingers
blue from cold
and stony silences.

You get over him
by deleting the words he wrote to you
when he was the person to pick you up
instead of being the one
to constantly push you down.
no longer have to cover the bullet wounds
embedded in your heart.

You get over him
not by swallowing pills to ease the pain
but by devouring the hearts
of people who asked
why you’re still writing
about the same brown-eyed boy.
Write until you bleed him out of your system.
It doesn’t matter how long it takes.

You get over him
when days turn into nights,
when leaves crunch and grow at your feet,
when the ground sparkles white
and clouds hover to kiss your mouth.

You get over him like this.
This is how you get over him.

—  I heard your name today and for the first time in a long time, I was finally able to breathe. -gaa