This is my Last Poem About You
This is (umm) my last poem about you.
No no, this is definitely, probably, my last poem about you
I mean..This is what I hope will be my last poem about you.
Because…Time had stopped for you
Life stopped for you
Wells ran dry for you
Patience wore and I grew old for you
And in your aftermath
Tragedy sat well at the pit of my stomach
Bitterness at the tip of my tongue
Emptiness filled me to the rim until it spilled over with forgiveness I still haven’t forgiven myself for.
And In your aftermath
Ink to paper became what tears are to skin
Just a trail back to sadness
Ink to paper became what water is to lungs
The more I spat out the better I breathed
Ink to paper became what language is to the deaf
It only spoke at you or in your memory but not once did it matter.
Ink to paper became what ash is to fire
Just the remains of something really great.
So.. this is my last poem about you, I think.
See,I know that I haven’t waited you out of my system
I haven’t written you out of my veins
I know that you still crawl under my skin whenever someone else tries to touch it
That you reside in these bones
I know that you are the air between my fingers
You are my missing rib and you always wanted to be closer to me than God
So you never really ran through my mind… Just through my jugular.
This has to be my last poem about you
Because my notebook is a blasphemous shrine
These pages live off the worship of pain
My words have to become something other than a build up to your name
So This is a poem about change
This is a poem about late night peace and what 3 am feels like when you’re not afraid of the dark
What breathing sounds like when you’re not afraid of silence
And what its like to hear yourself and not think you’re someone else’s static.
This is my last poem about you
SeeI only ever wrote about 3 things: Death, you and this city because you all made me feel the same way
This is the end of You: tear stained poetry
You: Ballpoint heartbreak
You: treasure in my shipwreck
You: one half man other half eviction letter
You: tremble in my vocals
You: Benjamin button of emotion, growing backwards on the inside
You: دعاء الكرب
You: two extra minutes of sujood
You: misery to my company
This is my last poem about you.