i still think about telling you how much i despise our guarded and sorry, vanilla goodbye.
all because i didn’t want you seeing me cry.
[as i took that first step from your side, a piece of me stayed in your pockets, on your lips, in the space between your fingers and mine.]
my darling, my darling,
those tears, they came, but they weren’t so bad. they were for the letting go of something that now belongs to you –
it’s not mine anymore, but maybe, instead, forever yours.
so be gentle, my love, it’s made of our memories, of the prettiest parts of all of this.
my love, be gentle and whisper,
it’s softness that’ll be
the undoing of me
of the guarding and the worrying,
of the everything.