This is a Breakup
It’s Saturday at noon when you come to visit.
Let me take your coat. No, I insist. Your scarf then, at least. Okay. You’re not staying long. Okay. But I still think you should sit.
You look so serious. I don’t want to fight either. But you’ve got to understand, I can’t do this anymore.
No, I know. Yeah, I talked to them too. But they didn’t say anything—
Okay. Fine. No, I’ll figure something else out. Don’t worry about it.
No, you don’t have to tell anybody, it’s fine. I can do it. Well, I have to. But I’m okay with it, really.
You don’t want them to know. Okay. You’re gonna pretend this didn’t happen. I’m just busy with work these days. Okay.
You’re leaving, then? No, it’s fine, I just didn’t expect you to so soon.
No, it’s fine, really. See you soon. I love you.
Okay.
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Here, I made this for you.
You’re a ring I put on eighteen years ago and I just took off today. And my hand feels wrong, empty. I keep reaching for you. And if I think about it hard enough I can still feel the added weight. The cool metal against my skin. You’re that new hat I got for Christmas. I put you on and all day I am aware, aware, aware. What was I thinking? I’m not a hat guy. I can’t pull this off. You’re my car and you don’t run right but, hey, at least you get me places. At least we’re not stuck still. At least I have somewhere to hide. You’re my childhood bedroom and no matter how many times I change the paint and rearrange the furniture, you still feel the same. And when I hung up posters of that band it didn’t make me cooler and when I broke the bed trying to glue stars on the ceiling that didn’t make me uncool. You’re the stranger I think I might recognize. The best friend I haven’t spoken to since I was ten. The groove on my keychain I can’t stop running my finger over, the worst line in my favorite song, my best tea mug shattered on the ground, that scar I got ice skating, my cat bumping her head against mine, the pop in my ears during a thunderstorm, the school bell ringing at the end of the day. You’re a For Rent sign in my front yard. You are my body, but you are not mine.
By Chance Reeves3 years ago in Poets
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