supernovae
love is most cherished when
it has one foot out the door,
a farewell on its lips,
a packed bag.
having an end in sight taints
every moment before.
perhaps it is better that
disasters come without warning.
in the rational light of day,
everything slots perfectly
into place.
we congratulate ourselves
on doing what so few have done,
dealing with a break maturely.
but how do i tell you the
whispers that stick to my tongue?
a breath escaping my lips,
sounding dangerously like a plea.
i pride myself on my steadfastness.
but i would trade my morals
for a few more stolen months.
i can deal with having
my heart broken, i promise.
if you don’t tell me when you’ll do it.
i don’t want it pencilled into
the calendar,
each day ticking down ominously.
i know i will break your heart too.
maybe that makes it better?
both of us have blood on our hands,
there’s no one to blame.
or maybe that makes it worse?
we lash out, as wounded animals do,
both of us are to blame.
i resent this want that fills my body,
i want to be content with
all we had,
but something in me,
some primal hunger,
greedily demands more.
i am terrified that i will spend
the rest of my life
chasing some pale imitation of this.
if this is to end,
i hope for a swan song.
the magnificence of a star dying.
so we can look back and say,
even in pain,
we parted as friends.
look, the fireflies still wink at us.