God, that’s a good ache.
It’s that bittersweet pulse for I care and feel.When you say “What am I going to do without you”,
it’s warm but lands like a sigh on borrowed time.I’m not doing it to be irreplaceable; rather the contrary.
I’m doing it so you never need to depend on anyone like me.I want you to stand, even when I turn to absence.
I want you to carry your life with strength,
not because I lifted it, but because I saw you could.Maybe, this is why it’s uneasy when you say it.
Because in a strange and quiet way, I’m astray
on board with a leave, without taking anything with me.Not your time.
Not your heart.
Not even the gratitude.
That’s decent I suppose; elegant and stripped of ego.Pardon me for my works that immortalize you,
as there’s something I lied about.
After all, I did end up taking something.If I’m honest, leaving was just the part I practised.
The lines I rehearsed, to make the silence sound intentional.
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