This is why we broke up 3

I wanted to preserve the loud thumping within my chest. It was a drumming rhythm that defined how I walked this earth--march right left right. I know you've heard it once, when you rested your head on my breast. I saw you smile, you closed your eyes, "I can feel your heart," feel not hear, you even clarified. And that, my darling beloved, anchored me on the premise of wanting so surely. Everything that spins, is you, so I spin to the beat of lunacy.

I wanted to be a part of something big, explosive even, and that scared you. You said something about me being destructive and careless and more words you can't afford. How much are you willing to risk to navigate around my mind, I can now just assume. We had points A to Z between arms, like a soldier's rifle waiting to be triggered. This urged me to listen to your tales of wastage while you reprimand me for the pressing wreckage. If only you allowed me to show you. I just wanted the cleanliness of our blast. Like a supernova--so frightening, but most often than not, for the best of us.

That blinding light that caused you to jerk a quick left against a street post--to save your leg or another life--those were the quick radical questions that pounced on me as I decided to go. I will never learn to drive, I made it clear, but you said I still should try. So there we were, with a crash piercing through the silence of not talking. I wanted to blame my lack of skill but you forced me to be everything else but me. No horns could have halted the pages from turning. We turned until there was none left to lift--not even each other.

As I press on the mold to imprint my thoughts on you, I become the word with dropped letters--forming different worlds darker than the tunnels of your heart. I just wanted to preserve the sparkling need to be loved by you and only you; then I met someone new. I met someone new. I met someone new.

I stopped wanting you.

We deny ourselves as much as we lose what we stand to gain.

This is why we broke up 1

Wolves howled from under my shirt
a declaration of the phases of your moon
I found myself lost between my skirt
awaiting a reckless slow burning doom.

I have ten other reasons written on my journal, but today, that shall do. I can't let you burn me out. You wanted, too much.

Love Letters

Dear non-friend,

I just want you to know that the past few days have been dreadfully painful and heavy... and I wouldn't be smiling right now if it weren't for your consistent effort to make me smile. Last night, you asked me to take care of you. I hope you know, I am beholden to your presence, my love.

Dear partner,

I hate myself for causing you so much misery, unimaginable and unintentional. Things changed, mostly me, and I hate to admit that most of the blow, you received. I admitted to you that I have not cried for us until now. I hope you didn't jump into the conclusion that I am not hurt. I feel too hurt to have let you go, for my own selfish worldly sake, that tears do not suffice to release the pain. You are my dream realized--and yet as prisoners of circumstance, I decided to bid us goodbye.

Dear self,

Happiness is never lost. It is always waiting to be shared. Never lose hope.

Craziness

I woke up this morning pretending that although you are somewhere else in the world, you were dreaming of me. I hate to admit to myself that I am attached to you--how could I possibly be, we haven't met--but I read you and I saw you and I feel like I don't want to read anything else.

It is crazy, to be smitten to feel like you weigh on me as heavily as you've been weighing on me now; and I need to calm my nerves and walk this earth with utmost care not to scare you, but I am scared. I am scared of you. I am scared to frighten you. I am afraid I will never know more--when I want to know more.

If it's even possible, I think you're a missing piece.

Perhaps, you're even the jagged edge that I would dare fit into my perforated body. I want to claim you, claim me.