cognition

cliche break-up pt. 2

 i don't remember writing this. but it was buried in the notes in my phone which probably means i wrote it at 4:41a.m., drenched in thoughts and emotions that do not dare manifest themselves in the daytime

how can love be forever,

when you and I only lasted one year ?

was it not love I felt,

the rattle of my bones when you spoke

and the sparks your touch gave me on cold, cold nights

the comfort your simple words gave

to grand concerns of mine

like your blue irises could drench a forest fire

with a smile and a look

the way i memorised your morning routine

and the way in which your body moved,

you grasped your coffee cup with four fingers,

leaving out your smallest one

the ease that came with confiding

every last piece of me

in my trust for you

and the absence that drenched the curvature of my spine

and the crooks in my fingers

when you finally said "I can't" -

was that not love?

I don't know how to deal

with this confusion,

because your touch and your company

were promises that I told you to never promise