There was a time when I was able to hold your heart like fragile secrets in the warmth of my hands and now, sweltering, I am forced to let it drop.
You and I are no longer compatible so if you will, leave please
Before I take back words I mean and pretend your absence doesn’t break my soul in pieces. Please, just go… before I am forced to pretend I am okay with the deception constantly dripping from your throat.
I am unable to heal from the times before but for you I was willing
So this is my last letter to you, my love
For goodbyes mean nothing to the chalk outline of your promises
Forgiveness seems to become a fools game and this fool isn’t tired of losing… This fool is tired of playing alone
I must apologize for having you believe the pieces you stepped on as you walked away
Weren’t the broken pieces of the words I was unable to say to you those nights you came to me unable to find your own lost consonants
And constellations in the fog of a broken city left us…breathless, wordless, perfect
I will miss you, but please… go
There aren’t enough minutes in a day to erase the fist size guilt in my gut
Because I know… I will not return
So who am I now?
Trapped between the person I am now and the woman you held so innocently at a safe close…distance? I can’t be her anymore…
Too still to move without startling the past I think it’s best if you leave
Please… just go
Before I have to walk away from you first
I will hold your hand and walk with you to the edge, but you never asked…just told me to stay back and wait for you to return.
My lover, my heart can not take another game of hide & seek for what I seek you are convinced you should hide behind eyes that seek for artificial certainty in secrets of women who want to cocoon their insecurities in the hole you intended to fill…
Just, go, please, I am too weak to leave, refuse to stay but please, just take the decision out of my hands, these cold, dead like things that are more used to putting the pieces back
Blood cracked fingertips, taught to hold broken pieces in hopes of repair instead of throwing them away…
You, my lover, are broken and I can no longer allow you to enchant my reflection to wait until you return
I wait on the widow’s walk of the Bronx on a rusted fire escape listening concourse calls and how it whispers that our time…. is up
So please… Just go
I am not trying to hurt you, but I will, if it means I will have the opportunity to remember, me. The inability to believe in your ability to mend the fragments of the conversation we never had, has given me the courage to ask