You didn't breathe life into me like I expected.
You knocked the god damn air out of me.
You took my heart out of my chest and locked it in a wooden box and told me you promise to keep it safe.
And you did.
You did.
But isolation means death and death means without you and here we are.
I remember that day where you just held me and nothing felt right.
Everything felt wrong and horrifying and I felt comfort in the fact that you couldn't make things okay for me.
You weren't my lifeline like I expected you to be and I didn't cry over you the way I thought I would when we didn't get the chance to say goodbye.
It was always how I predicted it to be.
Over before it began.
The space between too soon and too late.
The space between not enough and too much.
The space between you and I.
My best friend just moved away, the last guy I felt something for (after him I started to realize I wasn't attracted to guys). Pretty upset at the moment but I know it's the best thing for him and his family right now. I know I can't keep wishing to go back and change things because it's in the past, but damn. I wish I could of said good bye
YOU ARE READING
The Swallows and the Sunsets
PoetryI tend to find meanings in things not intended to have one.
