[of dreams and galaxies]

[goodbyes]

I wish I could write you
Or maybe draw you
Like the glow in the dark
Like the only song in my Playlist
       /on repeat /
But I'm bad at drawing
So instead I'm writing
I'm writing and the words just said
goodbye to me
/they've always been hard /
      goodbyes I mean,
But hey, someone said goodbyes are just new beginnings
/ bullshit/
They are not even ends
They are just there
Like loose threads
/broken threads
Like one of my drawings trying to be beautiful
But I know it's not so instead
/I say goodbye / to the drawing / I mean
But I don't really say
/I never say it
/how do you even utter the words from your lips
that you know will either break you / or someone /you just said goodbye to/
but unsaid words tend to haunt you too
So what do we do?
What do we do?
What do we do?
We write poems about them /the unsaid words, I mean
We burn them in a cold winter night and let them keep us warm
We dissolve them in our dreamy drinks /water you mean /or maybe glitter sadness / and drink / and drink /and drink /
      until our throat is not dry anymore
       until we sleep a little bit better at night
        until our cries can be heard
          until we learn how to not leave our words     
            unsaid.