I felt the silence growing
between us. Like he was stopping up
all his dopamine and oxytocin and
electrons
with corks
so none could get all over me – over us.
What’s odd is that the second he said we
weren’t right for each other, he made it
true. Up until then, it had been up in the air
siding on the
already-planning-our-first-dance-at-the-wedding.
I am so much, but mostly, right now, I am tired.
I am so tired of dragging him along, trying to lead
by example with my kisses and affectionate
tone. He didn’t want to give me any
back.
So let the door fall shut, heavy,
clinking with finality.
They say a window opens
but I’ll be damned if I don’t bust out through
one of the walls.
Kick through, because for so long I’ve just been
*this*
shy of right for another person and I’ve always been just
*this*
close to losing
my mind over it. I said once I didn’t pity
lovers who fell apart and I still don’t – no self-pity here. More like
self-get-your-shit-together-or-else.
Metro-Minded 