It doesn't hurt the same.
When you sat there on the next table. Seven years of being apart and unsaid goodbyes tucked inside our mouths were enough to bring these memories back--- different episodes kept stepping in every two minutes. It doesn't need a word. We sat there as if we were both trying to recall in silence of who lost us first.
It doesn't hurt the same.
When you came closer. My heart doesn't ache the way I saw you leave my apartment for the last time. It was the last moment I never saw coming. I was unprepared. When you're just few inches away, I gulped the memories back as if it was restricted. You said your Hello but it has the same depth of your last kiss.
It doesn't hurt the same.
When we shared a few steps away from our friends. This whole damn reunion thing was what we called a bad idea but I could sense you still smell the same. You still wear the same perfume I used to steal from your bag so I could feel you around me even if you're just on my clothes. You, above anything else, never really changed that much. You still laugh a shy laugh. You still have that look from a far. You still talk to me while snatching stares from the moon. You're still you.
It doesn't hurt the same.
When you told me you had given up your job because you need to follow what your heart screamed at you. You're a risk taker. Always leaving things you're not really sure. And maybe that's why you left me without a word. You leave the things that might crumble your grounds. You had always been into yourself. I am just glad it led you in the right alleys.
It doesn't hurt the same.
How you told me you were married 3 years ago. How you met her and how she built you up. How you told me your daughter got the same shade of dark brown in her hair. How good she is in holding pens and writing verticals when you say draw a horizontal. You told me you're lucky because your life has been sorted according to how you saw yourself. I used to see you there. You used to make me a part only to realize you need to change the characters and the entire plot.
It doesn't hurt the same.
How leaving me led you in your right place. How letting me go meant holding onto tighter and more stronger ropes. How breaking me meant saving her broken heart. How leaving me early meant arriving on her doorstep in perfect timing. How I remain stranded and frozen. How loving you meant loving you forever. How a teeny tiny hope could stop myself from moving on. How one person could halt myself from seeing better people in different gestures.
It doesn't hurt the same.
When I finally saw you again after a long time. You still have my heart even if everyday, those broken parts kept breaking and breaking.
It doesn't hurt the same.
It doesn't.
It doesn't hurt the same
because it always hurts more.
It always hurts more.
YOU ARE READING
POETRY THAT STAYS
PoetryYou don't really love someone, not until they become the person behind of your poetries. When poetry speaks, it echoes through your soul, lingers in your heart, and dances in your dreams. And... it stays. I wrote poems enough for people to ask, "w...
