I Pray That Fate Is Kind

a poem

10/15 1:32 am

***

The world stopped spinning when your eyes met mine.

how cliche it is to say that. how beautiful it is to know that it is true.

I bring a cigarette to my lips and pretend I cannot feel the ghost of yours on mine.

I fill my lungs with smoke to pretend I do not wish to breathe you in.

I fill my ears with music to pretend I cannot hear your laugh.

I surround myself with bodies to pretend I do not wish to embrace yours.

How cliche it is to cling to the pieces of you, how cliche it is to pretend I don’t.

I close my eyes and imagine yours, and the world stops spinning like it had once before.

Green has never looked more beautiful.

*

With the changing of October leaves, so do I.

But the home in which my heart resides remains the same.

I pick myself up, and the bags that surround me

and I start anew.

I rinse my body of the layer of skin that was last touched by you,

and I am left with skin that will never know the warmth of your embrace.

yet, when I close my eyes

allowing the world to still around me

I bring myself back.

I can feel your arms tighten around my torso, pulling me into you

as far as our atoms would allow.

I nestle my face into the nape of your neck, and I breath you in

the sweetness of you filling my lungs.

*

The softness of your skin, the melody of your voice, the gentleness of your touch,

the grace that is your lips, the thoughtfulness of your mind,

the complexity of it that coincides.

The endless bounds of rays of gold and leaping colors that is your personality.

in that moment,

even still in the memory of you alone,

I drink it all until I cannot drink anymore.

I fear I will forget the taste that is you.

How cliche it is to cling to the pieces I have left of you,

how cliche it is to pretend I don’t.

*

It was not just chemistry, interest, or attraction

It was not about how tall you were,

the amount of money you made, what job you had.

It wasn’t just about your smile, the curl of your hair, the fairness of your skin.

It wasn’t just about the warmth of your presence, how you dressed.

It was the perfect mix of absolutely everything,

and I could list all of the things I adored about you,

but the thing that filled my soul, what made me fall so deeply in love with you was

not something I could point my finger at and say I fell in love with you because of that.

It was in the way my soul exhaled deeply whenever we were together.

it was in the way we could sit in silence and still feel connected.

It was in the knowing you understood my unspoken language, and I understood yours.

It was in the way your mere presence felt like home,

bringing peace to soothe my chaos.

It was in the way that loving you, and being loved by you,

reminded me that true love isn’t about perfection,

but about embracing each other’s imperfection

together.

*

It is a tragically beautiful thing to love someone deeply.

I live with the knowledge of you,

and with that I see you in everything.

It is a beautifully tragic thing to look at

often the most simple, unremarkable thing to anyone else,

and be transported back in time where my heart was at its fullest.

*

how grateful am I to have experienced you.

*

I have been stupid to let you go.

I would have been selfish if I did not.

I am stupid for dreaming that I run into you,

but I pray that Fate is kind.

I pray that dreams come true.

*

You have single handedly healed the fractured parts of my heart and soul,

with you I was whole,

now without you I must remain as such,

even though my heart aches physical pain

every time you cross my mind.

*

I pray that Fate is Kind,

I pray that dreams come true.

*

I love you.

***