i met you in april
and you forgot about me by november.
yesterday new hands scrolled through my pictures and they landed on one from my last day with you
a hundred memories pressed themselves against the edge of my mouth but i swallowed them back without even missing a beat.
i wanted to say something pretty about the security that used to come from familiar lips
but the truth is i just didn’t know how
and i think that story is tired of being told.
some days the world just sits heavier than others and
some days the words don’t come as easy as they used to
some days it hurts more than i was expecting.
and its not that i don’t miss you anymore,
because i do
i’ve run out of words for you.
i’ve smeared your name across too many pages trying my hardest to unlove you,
meanwhile you’ve occupied yourself with leaning in first for everyone but me.
i guess we all have different ways of trying to forget.
and it’s not that i wasn’t expecting it,
because i was
i’ve run out of words for you
and august didn’t last quite as long as i would’ve hoped.