“I dont know”
was my response
when you asked me if
I still love you

the world stopped
for the both of us
as I wondered on the thought
of me, being selfish
or being true
and yours upon the
realization that
maybe, just maybe
my love for you
is fleeting

neither of us was speaking
and the silence echoed
through the depths of my head
and you uttered
‘oh’

that moment, I knew
that you gave up
on me, and my inner
indecisiveness

I crumbled upon
the guilt of telling you
those words, so instead
I let my tongue do
the talking and said
'maybe'

cause it was never hard to say

but it is always hard to face

the reality of being responsible
to someone

as if I have to breathe
through somebody’s pair of lungs
and scratch the loneliness
with someone else’s fingers

we parted
I changed numbers

cause I had to stay afloat
on the clouds of solitude
free from attachments.

I fell for you
but you were
already gone
as soon as
I got up again,
like a magician
through a trapdoor.
That was the time
I began to believe
in magic.

The words I couldn’t say stick their teeth in my lungs.
I want to scream but, I‘ve swallowed my tongue.

red is the color of violence

(and your hair)

you took from me many things

wrested from me

as if a thief