Where Are My Words?

dear you (9)

Dear You,

I described our love
as a napkin,
a letter,
and a newspaper.

That napkin
was tossed in the trash
because one person
didn't care enough.

That letter
was ripped apart
because one person
thought it wasn't enough.

That newspaper
was crumbled
because, truth be told,
I'm not mature enough.

For anything really.
I'm scared to grow up.
I'm scared to move on.
I'm scared to talk to someone.

I haven't been deeply depressed
since I left.
I haven't truly thought about suicide
since I left.

Maybe it was healthy
that I left you.
But maybe it wasn't healthy
for you.

You see,
I've noticed
that you received
the negative side.

I just want you
to know
that I am guilty.
You can testify.

You can apologize.
But I won't accept.
I have the guilt
of hurting you,

the guilt
of changing you,
I have all of your pain
weighing on me.

I will carry it
until I forget.
I will deal with this
extra weight.

I know one day,
I might come back to you,
and I will let you
say "I told you so."

But guess what!
I won't forget.
I will hurt every time
I think of you.

But I
have come
to terms
with it.