don’t know where you are, but i don’t care.
don’t know who you’re talking sweet to these days, but i don’t care.
don’t know where you’re heading and i never knew where you went,
but it’s not keeping me up at night anymore.
“you don’t really stop caring until you stop talking about it.”
a bold statement from my acquaintance who’s never spent a day alone.
well, i talk about it because it doesn’t hurt anymore.
i vocalize it because it no longer holds power over me.
the former idea that you left because i wasn’t enough
has been irrevocably transformed into the idea that
and for God
and for my mom
and my friends
and for the people who are meant to stay.
i slipped up the moment i let you put the shackles on me.
i slipped up the moment i turned on myself and everything i built up for years and years.
i slipped up the moment i said “let’s try again.”
eyes shot open. i woke up.
i used to gasp for air, but i can breathe again.
you were not meant to stay and i don’t care.