I’m missing the memories more than I miss you
and I dream about you with other girls,
doing all the things you promised not to.
Then I remember subtle things,
I remember your distance and how suicidal I felt in the silence.
Then I remember, moments where everything tasted like ice,
melted faster than I could take it in,
when you would kiss me, when you would hold my hand, when your heart would beat faster than you got tired of me.
I think you were afraid to say that you were settling,
that you were leaving before you could even arrive.
I watched a part of me die, and I became you,
I became just as distant,
as you could
and then you get worried, and you became present,
wondering where I was going.
I think I’m afraid to say that with you I’m settling,
that temporary won’t satiate the needs of my heart,
that you were the reason why my art
had gotten so dark.
You were always so careless with me
and I tried to hold you like water, but you always slipped through my fingers like you weren’t anything to hold onto.
And you tried to hold me, only when my fire was dim enough to see yourself through.
Forgetting about you comes slow and easy,
forgiving myself and letting myself grow is beginning to come naturally.
I am blossoming in the death of summer
now that I am no longer under your control.