SOMEWHAT STUCK

Heaven knows that I am no longer mad at you. 

That I am not upset at myself for 

the months I spent with you.

I no longer sit in corners regretting 

the times I spent with you and 

wondering if I would have 

been better off without you.

Of course, I would have been. 

I am no longer mad at how 

much of myself I gave, 

but somehow, I still wish I 

never gave myself that much.

A part of me feels broken for 

accepting your apologies 

the only one you left me 

with and I feel like it 

wasn’t real, but it’s fine.

I loved you without a prophecy; 

I needed no son of man to 

tell me you were the one for me. 

I loved you without reasons; 

there was nothing attached, 

just emotions that were real.

I loved you intentionally, 

and I made know all I was to you.

You did ruin my idea of 

what love is, but that’s fair, 

I can’t hate you more than this. 

I am not mad at you for 

moving on. It’s okay, I’ve always 

wanted for you to. I’ve tasted 

what it’s like being stuck 

and even though you hurt me, 

I don’t desire it for you.

May you find your person 

even as I rot in ruins, I still give 

you my blessing, although I do well 

fighting for things; I know for certain 

you are not worth fighting for. 

I can’t write stories anymore, 

I write them in memories of you, 

tiny regrets and forgiveness 

that’s never fully done.

A full desire of wishing you took 

your time to tell me off. 

You could have been honest, 

told me you fell out of love. 

I wouldn’t have waited in 

attempt to fix us. Heck you knew 

and you put me through that 

torture and I looked stupid 

believing that all we 

needed was a touch up. 

You played me good, 

so good I got lost multiple 

times and I can’t even 

be mad at you. 

I’ve been mad for too long. 

When I revisit memory lane, I cringe. 

I was a sucker for you. 

I lived life as an extension of you. 

I didn’t mind, I lived my life too. 

Oh, I am mad at you, at myself too. 

I feel like a fool, but this too shall pass, 

or whatever I like to tell people. 

When we first went our separate ways; 

I wanted to show up at your 

door so you could do me 

the decency of an explanation, 

write you an email because 

I wasn’t certain what else to do. 

I glanced at our pictures, I looked like a fool. 

But I decided I didn’t want to 

be more of a fool than I already looked.

So I deleted our pictures and didn’t 

wait for a word from you, 

when you finally came around 

to speak with me; I couldn’t hate you. 

I looked at you and a part of me 

hoped it would work again. 

It’s the kind of hope you give to 

a love you knew. You were the love I knew, not the one I deserved. 

I don’t know if I am still mad at you. 

I feel like there’s nothing that 

could take that one from me. The semi conscious triggers that sets in when I am going about my day just fine. 

I don’t know where you are now, 

but today, and yesterday and the week before, I wished you all the best. 

And for the first time in a long while, 

I said to myself, “what a disrespect”! 

You disrespected my person 

and my will to love, you took 

away the easy part of things, 

now I am conscious of everything. 

I don’t like what happened to me 

after you. I don’t like what’s 

happening to me after you. 

I can’t write straight stories, 

just one filled with brokenness. 

It’s like my neurons and cells can tell 

I was made a mess. That’s fair, or 

maybe that’s unfair.

But you do have my blessings, 

not like you need them. 

More than twice, I had wished 

that we hadn’t met. 

But wishes can’t take away that 

event, it can’t take away 

the scars caused from your presence.

Now, I am writing and wishing myself 

the very best and living in the reality of the fact that you never meant any words you said. It’s a hard reality to deal with.

Months I can’t recover from was taken 

from me and for a season in my life 

those months meant everything. 

I don’t know which is hardest to live with. What happened with you or what happened with you? (Yes, I know)! 

The ugly things that happened with you and the change that happened in you. 

I thought I knew you.

I’ve written too much of my grief. 

I shall pause here until I have 

a reason to revisit my kill.