Writing this for you
is a little like dying
in the sense
that my whole life
(Or at least, my whole
life with you)
Flashes before my eyes
Like a movie
With beautiful lighting
and soft, slow music
And both of us, acne free
and glowing
I am at a loss
of how to do this
If it was a last phone call,
I would say
“You’re beautiful,
and that’s all
I really wanted to say”
If it was a last love letter
I would right you a novel
filled with angry rants
and lovely memories
But it is not
It is my last love poem,
to you
who has transformed me
from ashes to wine
You, who have given me everything
And taken it away
except for a resounding faith
in God
I am going to leave now
Shut the door
and choose not to love you
anymore
because it is too hard
to watch you,
my beautiful boy,
fall so hard
I am going to leave now
And I will be okay
Because I am young
and there are many boys
I could love
But there is only me
for you
I do not love you anymore
