Today, four people told me that my poetry was beautiful.
Each time, I wanted to call you.
I wanted to tell you how my words finally mattered to someone besides myself.
But then I remembered how my words made your home feel like hell-
I guess I should think before I speak.
Maybe that’s why writing works for me,
Maybe if I would’ve had the time to gather my thoughts,
I would’ve said something more poetic,
But I didn’t.
The words I chose echo in my ears at night,
And since they can’t be unsaid, I write you love letters I’ll never send,
I know my words no longer matter to you but I wish they did.
I got lost in how fragile I am & forgot I’m not the only one who’s been broken.
I should’ve took my time with you.
I should’ve watered the flowers you left,
Because maybe you don’t find dead roses beautiful like I do-
Speaking of beautiful, your smile is like a sunset on the beach,
And that would mean more if you knew how much sunsets mean to me.
I wish I would’ve realized sooner how much you mean to me.
You taught me to only say what I mean-
So I’ll never say “goodbye” when I want to say “I love you” again.