Transitions are never easy.

I know.

I have not mastered moving on.

You were an awkward sentence

leaving me open-ended.

I knew we weren’t over,

but to be continued…

There wasn’t an introduction.

We were too much of a rough draft

to make a good impression.

Our mistakes did the talking.

Everyone that cared to listen

enjoyed our tragic romance.

I squirm in the hesitance

like a child waiting impatiently to use

the bathroom. At least they

have the common sense

to release their burdens.

After washing my hands clean of you,

I sanitized my aggression

to not make a petri dish of your name.

Your character was already molding.

The shaky foundation of us had me settling.

We didn’t build on solid ground and

you were a dropping elevator.

The man before me tampered with your cables

and you finally snapped.

Impact was almost as hard when I fell for you.

Why would you pick me up just to let me down again?

I take the stairs to overcome my fear of heights.

The ground seemed so far away from you

but it I knew it too well.

You were standing on stilts

or maybe, I fashioned my shoulders  into a pedestal.

Either way, you towered over me.

Tightrope walked your ego to never

scare you I was out of your control.

You were the ringleader of this infamous circus.

The mystery of your skill still remains

and I was the foolish acrobat

somersaulting for answers.

I miss your destructive hands.

They never let a dream of mine

go unbroken. You asked if we could

make them a puzzle so you didn’t fit into them.

I still have the pieces with you in them.

Over the years, I have buried rotten lovers,

like yourself, inside a sarcophagus made of loose leaf.

Thinking this will salvage the garbage words.

Piling up, my room becomes a landfill

of wasted time and non-recyclables.

Poems about you are hieroglyphics

I can say will never mean much of anything.

They are only things to keep

our unhealthy diet of each other tasteful.

Long after our mummified flesh

cannot preserve what’s even left of us.

My love was and still is morbidly obese for you.

The past is a family heirloom

I never intended to pass down to my children.

Our union was something I wanted to believe in.

But we are a Greek myth

one day, I will entertain my sons with.

When they break their first hearts.

A silly riddle I’m sure they won’t solve.

So I will chuckle after smacking the back

of their heads for being so unwise.

It’s funny how we make so much sense

without you here.

I hope they don’t learn the hard way

love will make you do some crazy things.

You black mask stole my valuables

as if I had something to lose.

Maybe, because

everything that mattered to me

was insignificant to you.

Transitions are never easy.

I know.

I have not mastered moving on.

Simply because moving on means

walking away as you have done before.

But I don’t think I’m ready

to make that kind of leap.

Besides, I know for sure this time

you won’t catch me.