I’m writing poetry about you again,
most of it stays in my head
never to be burned by the light of day
never so much to push me off the edge
I’m trying to decide if I lack the courage
to attempt to keep you when I know I can’t.
Or if I can sell self deprecation to avoid hurting you
The masses might eat it up,
buy it in bulk.
But you won’t.
The thing is,
I’m still waiting to feel like it’s over.
Like there’s no chance to find you waiting in my inbox
with a question
or a confession.
Like it’s impossible for me to change my mind about you.
And for once I have no one to blame but myself.
I am trying so desperately to do right by you,
and still stay true to myself.
There are so many things I wish I could tell you
but even admitting them to myself is unfair.
Even for him.
And hurting him is something I cannot afford.
The situation has not change.
I wish a lot of things.
And I know what my younger self would say,
“screw ‘meant to be’ and make your own destiny”
maybe it is that simple.
Trying to make the right decision,
and still finding that anything I do
will not suffice.
I miss you terribly,
even when I don’t want to.