1) never seen anything as beautiful as my imagination of you
you had your life, sometimes you reached out
i constructed the rest
without you ever knowing what you inspired
a muse, a projection, perhaps merely a reason
by some geographical joke, home became volatile
everytime i nearly forgot, you were suddenly a mere sentence away
terrified, no distance to hide behind
itching, silence no longer made sense
filled up passports
easier than one message
hiding in flights, tattoos, foreign words, empty photographs,
easier than a reply to your message
‘I wanted you to know’
so i wrote it on myself
mourning someone i never had
the few lonely kisses we shared
not knowing your favorite color
how you hold your knife
which side you sleep on
at some point, oblivious, it had stopped being about you
inexplicably quiet, a little trail of hurt behind me
always been terrified of you
maybe of what you could end
the hurt always gave me somewhere to go
could one message have ruined everything?
wondering why i never grabbed on
now cuts right through me
entirely orchestrated in my head
wasn't it
something tenuous
that only belonged to me
knowing what i know today
would i have fucking answered?
2) we looked through the same viewfinders
that's where my version of you began
years later you would ask, when i would get tired of exploring
as if there was somewhere i was supposed to come to
i put weight on the sparse questions you asked
ha, i've always been so generous with connotation
but i never asked where you would stay
now i know
sometimes i gave other men your face
and still you remained so beautiful in my absence
i suppose distance preserves the versions of people we prefer
i went far enough
to keep you exactly where you were
i thought longing for you was a sincere act of love
while you were already building walls with her
of course this is what your life became
i never minded not possessing you
until she made it permanent
funny
how long a no can last
p.s. i never got tired of leaving
but i flirted with the idea of lingering around you
an “i’ve always admired you” would’ve sufficed
instead i elaborated on every piece you occupied in me
the consequences of years of withholding
as if you had asked to know
she probably likes the windows open
and i always preferred what could develop in the dark
maybe that is why
the house belongs to her
3) absolutely fuck reasoning
because i want it
because i never told you
what an embarrassing thing to grieve
thank you for taking me everywhere
you never knew i followed
everything you never said
thank you,
normally, i don’t get the luxury of a heartbreak
usually, i'm the one being begged to stay
you have always been the exception
how dare you
thank you, this anger consumes me
thank you, there is still something to make of you
i hate you, i miss you
i grieve the only time i slept in your arms
you never promised me anything
how convenient for you
it doesn't explain the defeat
it doesn't explain the anger
why your happiness hurts
or why i'm grateful for any of it
and still
if you gave me five minutes
i'd now know what to do with them
i hope there isn't much longer left
to miss you
which is an outrageous thing to say
perhaps you were never the exception
perhaps what i made of you was
Thank you