Ill pack up your things,
Toss them in the yard,
Your clothes and my rings,
I'll throw them so ******* far

You don't have to worry,
They'll be back in their places tomorrow,
I'll make you breakfast I'm sorry,
I know better than to act on my sorrow

The comings days will be fine,
A few weeks of apologetic bliss,
I know you'll keep crossing my boundary line,
But **** I crave your venomous kiss

Im sobbing these tears, but I'm crying to who?
It's this same stupid story playing out in my room
I never fall first, but I will always love harder
No picket fences, I'm a karmic debt paying daughter
Now the greater question is are you the lesson,
             Or is it me?

I let go and make room for growth.

Here stuck in stagnant fog and cold,
My solace is to cling to you.
Clutched to my heart, the chill abates;
And yet, I know what I must do.

Though you'd carry my heart away,
I know that you may never be
Suited for life on this here ground;
For that cause, I must set you free.

Let God's breath fill your lofty wings,
Winds raise you up towards open sky!
Be free, o wingèd spirit fair,
If fate so beckons, you must fly!

I gave you my time, my thoughts, my care,
But you left me hanging, like I wasn’t there.
I tried to be patient, waited for you to see,
But I was always left with silence in between.

I reached out, I asked, I did my part,
But you never replied, and it broke my heart.
You were glued to your phone, always online,
Yet I was the one left waiting, every time.

Maybe you don’t see, maybe you don’t know,
The hurt in my chest every time you let go.
I’m tired of the games, tired of the lies,
Tired of waiting for something that never tries.

So now, I’ll step back, no more chasing you,
If you miss me, you’ll know what you put me through.
I won’t explain, I won’t make you see,
Because you should have known what you meant to me.

You found me
in a broken state,

heartbroken,
building up my walls,

classic fight-or-flight,
trauma calling the shots.

I gave up wanting more,
but you came at the right time—

not to save me from myself,
but to show me how to live,
let go,

and let bygones
be bygones.

I couldn’t believe
that someone

would give me
a chance,

but you never
gave up on me,

even when I was
falling through
the cracks.

You showed me what
true love should be,

and I’m never going back.

Like a cancerous tumor,
I can excise you from life.
I can take the remnants of the pustule tumor
And throw it under the microscope
So I can examine the very molecular structure of your brokenness.

I could study every atomic particle,
What your traumas informed you
Into formulating this visage you created,
How the vile black sludge of your soul -
Is nothing more than gangrene gone spoiled.

Your ineptitude of self-reflection
Blocked by the cataracts of your vision
As you placate to your strengths that play out like a weakness,
No, you were born this way, malignant and malformed
A malcontent of circumstance of poor decision making,
Raised in ways that raze the page of parenthood,
Always a burden, never a gift.

See it's in the nucleus of the cells
That deforms cognition in your riddled mind
As the wine collects and clots like blood vessels
Creating a perpetual loop of your self-destructive patterns
You are auto-immune, eating yourself alive
And yet growing in your toxicity, even now
Cut and dissected, your roots reach out like needy hands.

But I am rid of you, and we are free
No matter the pageantry, or remerging bumps -
I am cured of you, forever rid of the stench
As you flail upon the slide, hoping a humble host will accept,
But like all things discarded, you will find the landfill to be a home.

He came and left just  
as fast as seasons change,
In 2 years and 4 days,
There’s no way the hole of what’s left of us can ever be refilled
It’s something better left as dead.

With the way it ended, in time, it can mend, but,
There’s so little and so much left unsaid and unsalvaged, left for the dust,
Leaving Time as the beast to consume the remnants left of us

Our Simple hi’s
And slight glances,
Big smiles and small laughs,
Pictures best left archived and buried in boxes for memory,
Letters that’ll stay with the sender,
poetry that's better left in the vault,
And numbers that are best as blocked.

Thoughts of when we were oui
And dark cheeks turned pink through turn of phrase,
Initials in the palms of the hands that held hearts

Soured by the immaturity, and insecurities,
Lies and outside secrets.
Bodies best left in closets, knives better hidden under beds
And thoughts of what could’ve been,
And why did things end the way it did,
And maybe, we really were better off as friends,
Lies to each other that it’s just right but the wrong time,
If we try again, this time will be right…

But I think it's best for both of us,
That whatever this is,
Is best left as dead.