burning bridges

I know this story by heart

because I’ve danced with it

before.

Not asking for a sequel ‘cause

I just wanna know:

what are you gonna

do with your midnight memories

of us on a dull basement

floor when you’re sober?

Are you gonna regret touching my elbows

like you did?

 

Word’s getting around;

I revived our story

and I told them how it

ended.

I even made friends

with your ex two days ago.

Yeah I’m ashamed I was

ever jealous; she’s said

all the same things about you that I have,

that I’ve heard from

one of your old brothers.

 

I didn’t look at you in

the sticky kitchen starry-

eyed because my feelings

were coming back.

No, I saw what we

might’ve been

could’ve been

and thank God I

trusted the alarmed

voice that showed up in

poems from last semester.

I’ll never let them

see the light of day;

just glad I listened

to the voice that

kept saying, “go go go”

when my honey-mooned

heart kept saying, “stay, my love”.

So it wasn’t you

who was scared

when our hips met

each other; it was me

all along.

I don’t trust things that

are born in the dark.

Makes me wonder

what was real and

what we were lying about.

 

I hope you’re happy now;

hope you match with someone good.

Maybe you’ll look at her one day

and wonder why she trembles

and stumbles over her words

because she’s not like me;

she’s not translating Arabic-French

thoughts.

Or maybe

you’ll think about

laugh about

comment on

how she was baptized

in hay and farmland

and I was born from immigrants.

She’s your American Dream

and good for you if that’s

what you wanted.

But she won’t be like

me.

 

I guess I’m human for wondering:

when you talk to her,

look at her, are you

thinking, “So this is

what it feels like to

come home” or are

you sitting in the dark

realizing that everything you ever wanted is already

gone?

 

Guess it doesn’t matter now.

I’ve found my home in

someone else’s heartbeat,

and he tells me I’m

fucked up about you

because I burned the bridge

between me and you

thinking no one

else I knew would ever

build something from the ashes.

 

I know he’s right.

And he knows how the

stars will go out before I

ever think about not being at

his side.

You haven’t heard from

me in months, and I’m doing

better than I ever was because I

know I did at least two things right: leaving

you and remembering

my home’s with him.

Reviews

[Franky]

Excellent healthy thoughts. We've all been burned by someone we loved. I can really relate to this. Well done! Very well.thought out.