9/25/21

I can’t get over you, and I don’t want to.
Over seems so final, and that’s because I’m seeing it as an ultimatum set in stone.
That relationship is done, it lived and died.
Our selves at the time did what they could, they tried.

I’m not getting over you, I’m getting over us.
I’m a little excited, getting to know you all over again if you’ll let me.
Like coming across your favorite book, nostalgia floods when you give it a look.
You want to pull it off the shelf, peel back the pages and smile to yourself.
Locked away in the library of my past, I drown in moments that were The Last.
The Last walk through Home, a strange ghost weeping all alone
The Last time we went on a drive
The Last I saw you laughing & alive
The Last kiss when I broke your heart
So many lasts, they overwhelm all The First.
I huddle in the glow, hiding from The Worst.
The First time I drove The Bug
The First time I had a cigarette
The First time drifting in the snow
The First time we met, little did we know
The First time my heart broke
The First time I landed a solid joke

I’m going to stop coming to this library so much, after I clean up and get it all organized.
I’m looking forward to exploring the outside world, travelling far and near.
I’m excited to be finding my feet, I’m going to live with less fear.