A - N

A - N

Dear ex, 
I wrote these words down to prevent myself from hating you, 
but let's be clear I still do. 
I'm sorry. That's why I listed these things down so that maybe I'd feel like I don't.

So firstly, my A, B, C and D's the same I feel ashamed for comparing my lovers to you. 
They really don't deserve it, 
and to be honest deep down I don't too.

E, your smile is like candlelight, 
bright, and burns the wax off your face,
because you could never be fake. 
I could always tell how you were feeling,
you weren't good at making a perfect poker face.

F, I held on to broken glass for so long hoping one day you'd complete me, 
and that's sad, I know, 
because the scars on my hands now don't look good, 
but they look cool because now people think that I'm a bad ass.

G, I still think you should let me map the layers of your skin, 
make special with every touch, lick or kiss. 
See the need in my eyes to taste fruit, taste the sweetness inside, 
on my tongue feel the temperatures rise as I get close.

H, I didn't cry for you. 
How could I? When my body had not yet found reason to believe the truth. 
Believe.
Believe you.
Believe that my broken wings could not let me fly with you. 
I wonder if he made you happy, 
made you smile, 
made the thoughts of me a distant memory, 
I wonder if he kept you happy, 
because deep down I wasn't. 
I wished myself to shapeshift into anything but this, broken winged, 
I know he kept you happy, 
otherwise you would have come back, but out of the ash, a majestic Phoenix takes flight.

And so far, for my I, J, K and L, to the people I'm single now so like get in touch with me.

M, I do not say that name, 
I've tasted enough failure in my life to never want to feel the same again.

N, I didn't want to write this poem,
drench myself in red on this canvas of white. 
I didn't want my lips to excite themselves as your name slips out my mouth, 
to them familiar. 
I didn't want a reunion. 
I don't want for them to build a castle of hope, 
and then later for it to turn to ruin. 
These thoughts of you are not good things anymore, 
the shadows behind each memory remind me so. 
Maybe we should have fought more,
turned our happy into a lovers war. 
Back and forth.
Maybe, I was wrong to kiss you,
on your way home because let's be honest that's what started this all. 
I don't think this poem helped. 
I still feel the burns inside. 
And so I scattered your ashes, around, and burned the Phoenix too, 
so that then, 
in that moment, maybe, 
I'd finally find my glow.




26/11/19✔️

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