learning to unlove.

i see your face and
i can’t not utter
the truth with
a gasp
“god, i love you”

i’ve thought it as you
kissed me in the rain
i knew it as i ran my fingers
across the braille of your soul
i’ve whispered it
in your ear, and
i’ve screamed it
into your pillow, and
you would give me that smile, and
write me your poetry, and
pull me in close to
breathe me in, but

i told you the last time and
you looked down and away
and hung up

(why am i so fucked that
i love you so recklessly)

for you don’t love me anymore
maybe you never did
maybe it was just
the way i look(ed) at you
the way my words nest(ed) safely
against the wounds of
your soul
the way my skin melt(ed)
under your fingertips

and now the silence screams
that you’ve moved on
and i must (MUST) find a way
to unlove you

yet i see your face and
i can’t not utter
the truth with
a gasp
“god, i still love you”

it would be an act of
kindness for you to just
tell me that you’re done
that you let go of me
that you’ve unloved me
because i can’t seem to
let go of you, but
this broken dance is
breaking me

i could have kissed you
under the moonlight
every evening of forever;
i would have walked the fence
every morning picking
dandelions to put by
the coffee pot;
i wanted to carry your sacred stories
for always as we wrote
new ones for all of our
together tomorrows
but

my key no longer
fits the lock on your door, and
now i must learn
to unlove you.

i’m sorry
i wish i could be
better
right
yours
i wish this love didn't
have me apologizing for
who i am but
...i still do
and so i must
unlove you so that
i may remember to
love myself.
​
(you will always be
my favorite)