Moving on is overrated

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I still write you
or i guess, just… what’s left
my memory of you
a person i thought i knew
I hope you don’t mind that i do
I know now…
you don’t want to talk to me
but we agreed from the beginning,
loving impermanently
wouldn’t be easy

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You gave me a worldful of love to hold on to
or we made it out of each other
or maybe it was always just me
our future was my fantasy
a fairytale of manufactured certainty
but letting go of all that fictitious bliss
is too hard or maybe too freeing
too much pragmatism, or just too easy
I prefer this prison of frozen flames
prism smiles in still frames
static holograms of happiness
stored on plastic and magnets
I loved you exactly how I wanted to
and the way I wanted to be
was how i was loved by you
You loved me free
to stay or leave
meaningful irreverence
good love makes surrendering easy
when you look at it right it all makes sense
the dusk looks just like dawn
when i squint just right and pretend
there’s a place we can still meet
when i suspend my disbelief
i always forget where this place is
or maybe it naturally fades away
until i’m desperate, then
my heartbreak remembers me the way
to a dreamscape where your silhouette stays
just out of phase

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a surreal land of wonder
where unicorns play and love and fight
draped within the waves of milky way and
drifting bands of auroral light
the hummingbirds dance
hum sprint hover turn
fields of yellow flowers hold
an army of lightning bugs
blink wait wait
shimmering reflections in a black creek
bullfrogs creak between the reeds
ribbit riiiibbit splash
hidden under moonbeam rainbows
i still feel our loving growing here
in the weeping willow groves
the tall grasses wiggle
with baby bunny tails
bounce bounce sniff
but
they never run away
i think i might be invisible here
it’s too predictably beautiful
at least i know
it isn’t real
because nothing good is
our relationships are just ourselves
in clever disguises
maybe i’m ready to trade in all my surprises
what is there to let go of?
it’s all made up anyway
if forced to choose I might just stay
consent to a game i cannot win
at least my imagination is
a reliable disappointment
I think I’d rather just keep waking up alone
imagining
holding your hand again
here someday
under the stars of our past
waiting in the perfect painful world of my own love
not because I hope you change your mind
just because I like this place
and i’ll be fine
mabye moving on is stillness
if everything I need is right here

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