This is the
goodbye I never had
the courage to tell you.
No – the shame, the desire. After all,
what are farewells but another way of saying
“This is your fault”?
What separates self-love from
selfish? Where is the line drawn?
Is it the crease between your lips?
Where there lingers nothing but apology;
No – bitterness, nostalgia. For what is the end
but another beginning? This one free
of you. Bared teeth, mouth wide open.
What separates friendship from
envy? Love from anxiety?
Is it the slit between my legs?
The pebbles skirting my feet?
The plane tickets without your name?
This is the fall-out I never had
the will to fight.
No – the excuse, the silence.
the courage to tell you.
No – the shame, the desire. After all,
what are farewells but another way of saying
“This is your fault”?
What separates self-love from
selfish? Where is the line drawn?
Is it the crease between your lips?
Where there lingers nothing but apology;
No – bitterness, nostalgia. For what is the end
but another beginning? This one free
of you. Bared teeth, mouth wide open.
What separates friendship from
envy? Love from anxiety?
Is it the slit between my legs?
The pebbles skirting my feet?
The plane tickets without your name?
This is the fall-out I never had
the will to fight.
No – the excuse, the silence.
—
BFF
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