The Common Denominator.

August 1 is 8/1 and there are 81
promises you've made me and there are 81
promises you've broken
"I will, I will" - but
secrets sink in the future-tense of your certainty
you gave yourself to me forever-and-always for
14 months and
one year before that didn't count
because I hadn't given myself to you, but now;
oh, now I have (I will, I will)(and I have, I have)
and you,
you:
81 promises and 81
ways to describe the romantic irony in being the one to
pine away for you
(You waited one year)
(I'd wait forever)
There were promises and now they
grow from my brain like broken bones
rotting into 81-ways-to-remember-how-unfair-falling-in-love-can-be

I will, I will -
forever-and-always is not
14 months (augustseptemberoctobernovemberdecemberjanuary, on and on and on)
and forever-and-always is not
enough time (never enough time)
to regret what you've done to me,
not enough time to train myself to hate you
trade one passion for another
because (and here's the worst of it, this pervasive
knowing):
I can't hate you as soon as
you begin to hurt me
(and you have hurt me)
(and I love you)
I love you

You would understand,
if you could
You can't be blamed for believing so wholly
in something you allowed me to believe in as well
you fvcking awful, absolutely lovely, beautiful
darling unintentional liar

I'll blame you anyway
because it seems I still have some sense of self-preservation -

enough to identify what's breaking me,

(but not enough to have known).

The End

0 comments about this poem Feed