1wc:

i don’t think of you anymore. or rather,
i don’t think of you often, and never fondly.
mostly perversely, wondering 
who you have become, whether you are still
alive. whether you are happier than you were
before. but here i am, writing.
not to you, but about you, and maybe that is your
last laugh. your triumph, brown eyes, sharp light,
soft mouth like a crow, always
cawing, cawing. 

mostly i am sorry about you, but not sorry
enough to do anything about you.
i wonder if you heard that i was leaving.
but i have left you already, and now, i think,
you are leaving me too.

livinginanotherdimension:

bad days pt.2

loviely:

i wish it never happened