the last goodbye

i never got the chance to say goodbye
as your friend
i only said goodbye
as your lover.
“have a safe flight,” was the last thing you said to me.
when i landed i was jetlagged,
i slept at 4 am
but not before texting
“good night. i love you.”
i knew we’d broken up
but
i thought that
if i’d keep reminding you
that i loved you,
we would never ever have to say hello
as friends
if we meet again.

when i landed in LAX you called me your boo,
and at that moment i felt at
home
despite how
i’d just been detained
in the immigrations office…
at that same moment
i realized i could be content
in any universe
in which you would call me yours.

on my second night here
i dreamt of you.
there you were
next to me, where you always loved to sit.
you gave me a hug,
and i felt like a loveletter
and you were a lover’s hands
as if
i,
was only ever made
to find my way to you,
For you
to hold and
look at
over and over again,
to hug close to your chest
and to keep its contents
deep within your heart.

by the third day i knew
i’d have to try to live without you
learn to taste the flavors of the day
without your presence.
the days turned out to be
so bitter
that i’d have rather
bit my cheek to
swallow my sweet, metallic blood
when i thought of how
you would give love
to somebody new.
i looked at my hands,
and all i saw were two fists
as if i was ready to punch myself
for being so damn replaceable.

and now
here i am,
8701 miles away from you
looking for metaphors
to heal my wounds with
but all i see is a fucking wall.
i always thought
walls were made
for us to climb over
if what awaited the other side
was what we craved
bad enough.
i saw things between us
for what they were
then.