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A Day in Poetry VII

Monday, 30 January 2017

Maybe I should have listened better.
I don't really recall you being very clear though.
I don't really recall you threatening me to go.
Or maybe you did. 
Maybe I was hearing but not listening.
I don't really recall. 

Maybe I should have stay further. 
I now realize that you didn't really looked for my presence. 
I know realize all of my demands were stopped by a soft 'no'.
Maybe I should have interpreted better. 
Maybe your 'no' was not that soft.
Maybe your 'no' was the first step you took away from me.

Maybe I should have talked clearer.
I don't know if you weren't listening.
Or if I wasn't choosing the right words for you to understand.
I don't know if you wanted to listen actually. 
Now I think you were faking.
Maybe I should have just stayed quiet. 

Still some weeks after you left, I still found pieces of you. 
Your hair in the shower.
A dirty sock of yours in the closet.
A coffee stain you made on the kitchen table.
Your favorite tea in the drawer, with no one to drink it now.

Maybe I should have remembered how you liked your coffee.
Maybe I should have come with you to those gigs and pretended I liked it.
Maybe I should have talked more often instead of breaking into tears in the middle of the night.
Maybe I should have remember that you didn't like 'this kind of girls'.

I realized a bit too late that I was one of those 'girls'. 
The one who doesn't want to see her therapist cause she knows he's right.
The one who rather read Fitzgerald and write poetry, pretending to heal. 
The one who sometimes said 'I love you', out of fear to lose you.
The one who maybe did too much, when all you wanted was nothing.

Maybe I like myself better a little bit torn, a little bit broken.
Maybe I hang up too much to my bad habits.
I thought it would be easier to watch you leave.
But still today I remember every step you took, I remember the distance growing between you and me.
Still today I crave for your lips. Still today I want to hear you tell me 'I love you'.
Still today I want to be in the same room as you are. 
Breathing the same air as you do.
But now you're gone.
And all I can think is how right was Peter Craig when he wrote that the most abused words are 'I love you' and 'forever'.

In the end, you were maybe right to go.
Yet I can tell you that where I am now, 
In bed, drinking your favorite tea that I hate, 
Listening to your favorite music that I can't stand,
All I can think about is you. 
But anyway, I'm sure you already forgot about me. 
Because I'm just one of those girls.



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