I’m trying to forgive you, trying to let you go
for the simple fact that nothing else has worked.
The cuts, the scars, the bloodshot, bleary, tear stained drunken nights
have simply led me back here once again.
I stood exactly where I’m standing now
this time last year just some hundred miles away.
Lost and alone and dying inside and really, outside too,
with no hope that I could ever see again.
That I would ever see anything but the hole
that you once filled in this space next to me.
That I would ever feel anything close to whole
and still that emptiness is the thing that defines me.
The hardest thing to bear is that I had you
and without knowing how I lost you just like that.
The feeling that I am nothing more than always being less
is paralyzing and eating away at me.
The other day I found a card from you that said,
‘to the woman who will always be more than enough’.
That’s what it all comes down to once again
which one of us didn’t live up to their word?