on this day.

the art of falling in love.

ii. THE ART OF FALLING IN LOVE.

doesn't love me anymore / is such a sad way to put / falling out of such passion / even though / you can't fall out of love / because all you have been doing is falling in love / a painful journey / where trust and safety / all you have never known / is taught between small lines / and it's your choice to write in permanent ink these words / or in pencil that can be erased away as easily / as his heart stopped singing your favorite song / and how he asked for his sweatshirt back / the one with marshmallow stain on it that just won't come out / that happened the second time he had said i loved you / yet it still felt like the first / and you wore it so much / that you had to ask him to spray it with his cologne / because the ache of not having his comfort while he was gone / overpowered you to such a state / that you didn't even want to think / about how this pain would expand / if he were to ever truly leave / but he did / eventually he packed away his things / and he said goodbye / and he wished you the best even though / he was your best / you still find your hands sinking into the box of things he has forgotten / toying with broken watches / outlining old photos / if you empty out the box enough / you'll find your heart / and all the promises of the future / for he had forgotten all about that too / you're lost in how he no longer found interest / how one night he kissed your forehead / admitted how in love he was with you / and the next / over morning coffee / tells you his veins run cold when he embraces you / and his tongue becomes bitter at the sound of your name / even though you never did anything wrong / it is then / that you learn there is / no such thing as falling out of love / because the agony is what lies in falling in love / the push off the balcony / the rooftop that you feared to over look / and not knowing who would be there to catch you / it is the act of falling / watching the beauty of the clouds stand still / as the wind blows your hair forward / and you appreciate everything / the pulse in your temples / the whistle of the wind / the warmth in between fingers / you find beauty / and desire in it all / it is when everything comes to a halt / when you hit the concrete that has been waiting to catch you / that you feel numb / nothing / your mind runs completely blank / and you're too scared to look around to see who was standing near you / who was watching the fall happen / but never felt the audacity to catch you / feeling every inch of bone crack into fragments / as your body no longer free falls to the sidewalk / and out of the corner of your eye / you see him walking away / not even acknowledging / the sound of you / crying out in pain / or how you try to reach out for him / but you're too broken to move / it is then that you learn / it's not about the falling / it's about what you do / when you finally hit the bottom / and you have this time to yourself / that you haven't had in such a long time / that the quietness in your home / is more painful / than the crash itself