“I’m leaving”,
Said my heart said to my brain.
But I act like I can’t comprehend that,
Because it has only been a couple of months.
Sometimes I humour myself into believing this came as a shock.
Like my life isn’t a compilation of half-hearted associations with people who deserved better.
People who asked for more,
People who longed for the one thing I did not possess.
How could I possibly give you something I have never known?
I can’t make up affection or compassion.
Can’t create emotional ties or intimacy.
These concepts only exist outside the realm of my reality,
But you knew that.
Yet, you still blame me
As we arrive at the last lap.
I know this phase too well and so do my readers,
It’s the part where I begin to speak the end into existence,
Hoping that “the power of life and death is in the tongue” isn’t just another fairytale story.
A.