I never claimed loving me would be easy.
(you begged me to make it fair–
I shoved a knife in the space between your ribs
and ate your breath to the rhythm of your surprise).
I always had this notion,
that you belonged not with me
but to me.
(that was our final undoing. that
act of possession over partnership).
I can still feel the slide of you lips
against my skin as I took your first kiss
(the world you were all to happy to part with),
the spark of your body as, years later,
I took your innocence, your convictions
(it was all too easy).
(you never quite gave up the hold on your heart).
I never wanted it to end this way.
(you made me your villian–
I took the shape of the words you left unsaid,
and in their absense became brighter than the force of your soul).
you spent years asking me to write
the final page,
gloss the finish you couldn’t
(the beginnings that sprouted
from the pages I burned
are more beautiful than I
ever could’ve put to words).
my last gift to you.