Tag Archives: breakup

Sixteen Years

I never thought I’d write a farewell poem to you, but here I am.

I hope you know I don’t hold any anger,

not a shred of resentment.

It was just you and I, for the longest time.

I knew the darkest parts of your life and you knew mine.

I also partook in the brightest, as did you.

I believe the intimacy of it all is what kept us so close.

How is it that even the thickest of ropes burned so quickly?

As if we both struck a match on either end, and simply forgot.

You knew in your heart that we were drifting, and I don’t want you to tell yourself otherwise.

I knew in mine.

I knew it was almost time.

I could see it in your eyes.

The jealousy, the despair; the hidden madness within…

You would verbally address it on accident from time to time, a little slip of the tongue.

I could see it in your smile.

One so forced, one so unhappy, and one just for the photos.

It killed me, slowly but surely.

I’d get off the phone and my husband would know.

I’d have a gut punch to the chest and I couldn’t hide it.

I felt guilt and shame for not being the one to make you happier.

I couldn’t fix it.

I couldn’t fix you.

This genuine soul I’d known for so long, was deeply hurting.

I was the cause of the damage.

Unfortunately, all I was doing was living my life. 

I thought you’d be happy for me.

I went through hell and back to find this path. 

I experienced the worst betrayals, heartaches, violations… you name it.

But now?

Now I’m finally at peace.

Why?

Why couldn’t you display an ounce of true joy for your oldest and closest friend?

I tried to be sympathetic and collected.

I revisited your past and could explain your behavior away. 

I ended up excusing your behavior so much, that I was oblivious to my own suffocation. 

My words were spent on you.

My breath was spent on you.

I was dying.

It was the most painful realization of my life that the person I held closest to my heart was nothing more than dead weight.

Crushing my soul every chance she got.

I wasn’t allowed to do better, to have better, to be better.

You wouldn’t allow it.

You’d pretend, but I knew.

You forgot that I knew you.

I know every eye twitch to eye roll.

I know every sarcastic low blow.

I know the undertones of your conceit.

I know the deceptions, and the cracks 

in the media they can’t see.

I know you.

I know the good.

I know the bad.

I know it all.

I loved it all.

I still love you.

Whether you’ll believe that or not, I’m no longer sure.

However, it remains true.

I can love something or someone even if it holds no value.

I can pray and wish them well, even if they’re far away.

I don’t mean to cause you harm and I definitely don’t want to see any come your way.

But, my love, it’s time.

I ask you to face the mirror.

To wonder why this is a recurrent theme.

To want to heal the parts of yourself you refuse to see.

I can only imagine that after that,

you’ll be the friend I knew you to always be.

I say this with the purest love.

You no longer serve purpose in my life.

You no longer contribute to my growth and wellbeing.

The negativity simply became all too consuming.

I will not delete your photos.

I will not block your number or delete your messages.

I will not erase your impact.

I will sit quietly,

in the nosebleeds of the bleachers,

cheering you on.

You’ll never see me,

but I’ll continue to see you.

I’ll continue to root for you.

When you’re healed…

Man…

What a beautiful person you’ll be.

The Waiting Room

I had a dream the other day.

We were in a doctor’s office.

Perhaps it was a metaphor of a true check-up.

A storm was coming,

and the predictions were egregious. 

We chatted about our preparations,

and held small talk about how we were doing.

You haven’t crossed my mind in years.

Unless I’m drudging up mistakes of the past, or the love I’ve lost,

I simply don’t give you access to my mind.

You’ve already done enough damage,

and my rental has been finishing repairs.

I love the reconstruction, honestly.

I’m finally being booked at a higher price, 

the one I should’ve charged for you.

My love met me at the office and you shook his hand.

You watched us leave and I looked back.

I smiled, and could feel my hand grip his a little tighter.

The healing, the growth, the success, the unconditional love, and the value…

I have that. I did that.

Everything you once told me that I couldn’t be or couldn’t have…

here I am, and I have it all.

You’ve crept in the background, 

and don’t feel surprised,

because I saw you.

This dream granted you full visibility.

For once, we shared true transparency.

It was invigorating.

It was powerful.

After all this time, I’ve still held a small amount of pain and anger.

Not necessarily because I’m thinking of you; don’t let your ego get inflated, 

but rather the situations that involved you.

The trauma showed itself in the unexpected. 

Cruel, bent, rusty nails that just wouldn’t budge.

I finally got to tell you how I worked hard to be where I’m at today.

Incredibly hard.

I deserve this life, this love, and this healing.

I deserve to walk away with this smile.

I earned it.

I hope you’re in a similar place, truly.

I think that was the point of the dream.

I’m finally strong enough to wish you well.

The Gardener

Many years ago,

I had a garden.

It was exquisite,

it was nurtured;

and it was vast.

I became a masterful gardener.

From the placement of the seed

to the trimming of their leaves,

I studied and learned how to properly tend.

Sunflowers, tulips, and orchids

lined a winding path.

To one’s surprise, 

they’d even find cacti, dahlias,

and roses,

all blended and alive.

I felt a sense of pride as I watched them grow, blossom, and even begin to die.

I knew they’d soon return,

the cycle would continue,

and there was simply not an end.

However, one day,

perhaps within minutes,

they all seemed to fall ill.

I did my best to help them,

to restore and see them rise once again.

That day never came.

All this time and beauty, wasted.

My vision went from a bright and beautiful color of hope

to a blackened blur of betrayal.

How? Why?

I left the garden, but still viewed it from my window.

The sun rose and fell, over and over again.

The moon provided an eerie silver glow upon the fields.

It appeared as a false shimmering gleam of hope,

of desire; of desperation.

I began to dread the night.

The ending of my day;

the battering reminder of what was

and what will never be.

I left my perch upon the window and drifted to the solace of another room.

One without a view.

I pondered what had happened,

many times.

A pest? A lack or oversupply of water?

Were my hands too tired?

Was my mind too empty?

Or had my heart shrunk a size too small?

I gave, and gave, and gave some more.

I did what I could.

I did my best.

I, I… I.

It was then I could pose the question…

Who tended to me?

It was I who stopped growing.

It was I who had been dying.

It was I who lost my way.

I thought I’d lost my garden,

but I had lost myself.

Slowly, I creep back to my window.

I give another look, or two.

I ask myself if I’m ready.

If I can bare the pain of growth and loss

yet again.

One day, when I feel whole,

I’ll plant a few seeds again.

One day, when the trust of reciprocation 

feels present,

I’ll tend to my garden.

More importantly, I’ll tend to the gardener. 

Walk Away

Pregnancy insomnia? Found a solution.

Just like the last poem, the first four lines came to me in a soft ballad-like tune. I think my baby is bringing out the musical side in me lately! Unlike the last poem, however, I sang every word while I wrote this one. It is intended to be a song, and a comforting one at that. I hope you enjoy this beautiful, and incredibly relatable, piece.

Cheers!

Baby, walk away with me.

It’ll be the last thing we do together.

Baby, walk away with me.

Promise it’ll all get better.

___

I’m just tired of the fights,

all the sleepless nights,

questioning who’s right,

and those painful cries.

___

Once, you were my best friend.

Thought I’d be your partner ’till the end.

Our love was something others couldn’t comprehend.

And when we fell, I rose to defend.

___

Baby, walk away with me.

It’ll be the last thing we do together.

Baby, walk away with me.

Promise we’ll both be better.

___

I’m just tired of the lies,

and all the empty whys,

questioning our tries,

and losing what was mine.

___

Once, we shared the best laughs.

We could be ourselves; no masks.

Our love was so strong, thought for sure that it would last.

And when I sank, you were my life raft.

___

Baby, walk away with me.

It’ll be the last thing we do together.

Baby, walk away with me.

Promise you’ll find another.

___

Our time has come for goodbye.

I’m scared if we wait any longer,

we’ll leave hating one another.

Let’s walk away out of love.

Let’s walk away with our trust.

Let’s walk away… it’s a must.

___

Baby, walk away with me.

Let me give you one last kiss before I leave.

Baby, walk away with me.

We’ll be better for this…

For this…

I believe.

The 23rd

You were a beautiful distraction. 

One filled with many misleading interactions. 

I wish I could, as you so graciously state it, say less.

However that’s just not how I am. Perhaps, for the best.

To you, there’s dating and a dating phase.

Please explain, as I thought they were the same.

Your chivalry was strong, and your words were sweet.

Moving fast, you swept me off my feet.

You had me by your smile, and by your eyes.

Maybe I’m mistaken, but I thought I also had you with mine.

I changed my rules for you, nearly every expectation. 

Imagine my surprise when you repaid me with hesitation. 

You say it’s nice to be important, and important to be nice.

With how you’ve been lately, maybe you should repeat that last line, twice.

All I need from a man is respect and attention.

If that’s more than you can offer, perhaps you need some self reflection.

Here I am remembering Marley, as I channel my inner Swift.

No woman, no cry, as I continue to write down my relationship bullshit. 

Penny for your thoughts, but a dollar for mine. 

Yes, it’s your loss. Better luck next time.