Des bords de l'infini,les amants vous répondent

If only I could be like you. If only I could move on as fast as you. If only I could fall in love with someone as fast as you. If only I could sleep with someone as fast as you. If only. If only I could say I love you as quickly. If only I could. If only I could do half as much as you these moments of quiet wouldn't be half as torturous. But I can't so I remember it all. Even after a month of us being broke up, even with the last time I spoke to you was Monday, July 24th, even though we broke up Friday, June 30th, even though the last time we had sex was Friday, July 7th, I remember it all. Monday, July 17th you told me that you don't hang out at his house, that y'all don't cuddle, you don't hold hands, you don't kiss, you don't wear his clothes. But that was a lie too. You lied and you lied and I believed you because all I have is this rotten, forgotten love. Spoiled milk left on a counter just to curdle with the passing of time. The first time y'all had sex was between July 9th to the 16th. You tripped up when you dropped my stuff off. If only you didn't. If only I could forget. But I can't. The day you came to drop my stuff off you fucked him the morning of and an hour later you let me kiss you as my last goodbye. Ironic isn't it? Lessons get sent until you learn and all I've had was repeated lessons. I'm staring straight into a mirror. I've been here before; if only I could forget. If only I could forget how I begged you. If only I could forget how much I'm in love with someone like you. No amount of burns in this would could make me forget, no amount of alcohol, better yet.

The song is Grave by George Ogilvie. I wrote the poem while I was pooping.