eleven

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a few poems i have written lately:

I - what it is not.

i don't know how
to make any of this
sound poetic.

because nothing
about any of this
is poetic.

my heart does not
ache like it has
stopped beating.

my tears do not
fall down my cheeks
like acid rain.

my spotify does not
know what else to play
besides heartbreak anthems.

my heartbreak
is not in any way
poetry.

but yet all i write when
my heart is aching is
poetry.

II - the next time.

i hope the next girl
is less forgiving than me

i hope she has the courage
to rip the smile right from your teeth

i hope she has the strength
to spit out your words instead of swallow

i hope she has the willpower
to tell you to go fuck yourself

i hope she breaks you

i hope she screams in your face
and i hope she makes you tremble

i hope her words silence your own
and i hope she shows you

why you should fear
the women you string along.

III - noncommittal.

you know
you never really were mine

you knew
you just wanted to pretend

i know
i shouldn't have let you but

i knew
i didn't want to stop you

IV - the quietest of ways that love can leave.

on a saturday afternoon
a simple text
"can we talk?"

the anxiety comes on next
wondering when a reply
will grace my phone

two, three hours pass
he says he's a creature of the night
but that's a disguise for irresponsibility

"yeah, what's up?"
as if he doesn't already know
as if he never knows

paragraphs of texts
assertiveness oozing from my words
passiveness dripping from his

"i think we should stay just friends"
the infamous line
the hideous line

i conceal my heartbreak in
single exclamation points
and simple sentences

a quick goodbye

"have a good weekend"
leave him on read
go see a movie with my friends

and pretend it didn't happen

for the boy i had to let goWhere stories live. Discover now