How Many Times Can Someone Fall Out Of Love?

How many times can someone fall out of love?

Trick question.

No one ever really falls out of love.

Not all the way atleast.

For love is a shape shifter if I ever knew one.

.

I will die on this hill

And you will not know

Because you would have left

My heart at home.

So I become a peony.

The ground holds me kindly,

The same way she has cradled bones and buried teardrops,

Until I disintegrate into her embrace.

I will not be waiting for you when you come back for me.

.

The stars are all already ghosts.

And perhaps they are proof that there is a life after this one in which beautiful things are possible.

That we might bring someone hope in their darkest moment even if we are too far gone to be bound by the gravity of holding someone's faith in our palms.

.

I have nothing to offer you but potential.

Do with it what you will.

I hope you will find a better use for it that I have.

The most reckless thing I ever did was forgive you.

Mostly because I couldn't help it.

.

Please, stay with me until I forget.

I am frightened.

I am

Scared.

I am really

Scared.

For freedom is lonely.

And regret a vicious companion

.

~I don't know what I mean but I hope you do (02.20.21.)

"Just

Tell me

The truth.

I promise

I won't

get

upset."

It is a lie, of course.

But everyone wants

The truth,

Until they have it.

As it is always so much more gruesome,

Than one could have imagined.

I do not blame you

For becoming angry

For the truth is an infuriating thing.

~reflections on the gentle falsehoods that have never turned me away and the untruths that have always made room for me to believe when I had no where else to go

And are you not the most palatable anguish I have ever allowed myself to feast upon?

~Saturday Afternoon Reflections~

I have this reoccuring dream

In which I am loved.

That is it.

That is the poem.

Short.

Because it never lasts

It never lasts.

And there is nothing left unsaid, and yet a million things unheard. The chasm between us widening and deepening and every word tumbles down into the depths and we remain. Sore throats and hoarse voices and strained eyes trying to make out the details of your face that drift farther away with each passing eternity. And I suppose, that we could jump. But who knows what awaits us? How far we will fall. If We will hit the bottom alive. If we will drown in the accumulated sea of sentences that have amassed over the years. If we will see each other the same in the darkness. If we will ever resurface.

But I will jump first. If only to know it will be your voice that drowns me. If only to attempt to consume everything you ever tried to say before it devours me instead. If only to be suffocated by your truth. If only to be laid to rest here, amongst the sins we birthed together. Here, next to the slowly disintegrating corpse of our love. And perhaps I will never know peace. But I will have known the whole of you, And that would have been enough.

I find your fingerprints littering the pages of all my poetry and I can't get them off without smudging the ink and ruining my work. I don't know why I let you touch it. But its more like it asked to touch you. And how could I say no? Have you ever tried to deny inspiration? And how could I blame my writing for wanting to hold you? How could I blame her?

I don't hate you for leaving but I despise you for making me think you might stay. Loathe you for letting me become accustomed to the comfort of your presence. The leaving always hurts more when it is unexpected. Wounds deeper when they are laid in the back. Taking longer to clot. Always scarring worse.

And now my lips are always chapped because you're not there reminding me to stop picking at them, and to lend me your honey lip balm. And I don't want to buy my own lip balm because its definitely going to remind me too much of you. But every time I am irked by flimsy peeling skin, like a scab begging to torn, a wound waiting to be reopened, that reminds me of you too. And so I heal and tear open stitches in a vicious cycle of remembering.

I just want to forget you.

I just want to forget you.