Loving you is like muscle memory
Where at one time
I thought
You were everything
And then you moved on
And I attempted to love
Other people
But every time I thought
I could move on
I was reminded of the pieces of me you stole
And the act of loving you
Became not so beautiful
Didn't feel as warm
But all the same
I still feel for you
Sleepless nights
full of sobbing
pleas to beings on
A separate plane of consciousness
Became a ritual
A seance for a love I thought I could bring back
The ghost of the you
That once existed
And called me “Cute”
And gave me that disarming smile
That I thought made me special

It’s frustrating
Looking at someone
and automatically replacing them with you in my mind
Maybe
I should find more people with your name
So that
If I ever experience
The throes of passion again
I won’t be calling them the “wrong” name
And then I will be guiltless
A kind of faithful adulterer
That makes love so I can be with you
In the sad
Sick
Twisted little place
That exists in my mind
So that I can relive
Every touch you gave me
That made me blush
Why does it feel easier
To repeat these self destructive
acts of admiration
than actually trying to move on?

I can’t stop
As much as I try
To pull you out of my poisoned heart
So that maybe I could heal
Find someone better
More deserving
More appreciative of the brand of love I sell
I wish there was a switch
A button
That would let me end this cycle
Of anger, despair, adoration, and forgiveness
You don’t deserve this much attention
Without your distasteful, mediocre words
Passable looks
Undeserved confidence
I should hate you
Or at the very least detest being around you
But I worked myself
Into the pattern of your flaws and attributes
And I cannot escape

I keep being told
That it just takes time
I’ll get over it
That I deserve better
You just don’t know how to love
You don’t know how to care
And that we would never last
But as days turn into weeks
And months
And eventually years
I find that my heart is growing smaller
And it gets harder to feel about much anymore
Until I find my tears are only lavished
On your uncaring self
And all the happy experiences
Remind me of that summer day where it rained
And I thought it might be true
When you said
You liked me

Loving you is like a muscle memory
In the way where
Every time I try to break away from the pattern
My mind has set
It just reverts
Back to the me I want
To grow away from
In the subconscious ways
Of thinking
That I have initiated
Like reaching for a cigarette I know will
Eventually give me cancer
Because I am “stressed”
Like typing without looking
Like remembering how to
create cords on an instrument
Loving you is like a muscle memory
In the way where
I’d need a lot of therapy
To stop thinking of you as much as I do