The last 3 letters of the spring

The crying 
smelling my hair in the hallway that second time you left
kissing my shins that last time you stayed

Telling me about her

breaking my trust; breaking your promise—never figuring it out 
Taking everything from me—funny how the tables have turned
wasting my words, my light, my joy
making me feel stupid for caring
calling me crazy
being my safe place
lying straight to my face
avoiding me on the street
making my yellow flowers mean nothing

Telling me about her 

the stupid dismissive “oui”
dancing with her on my grave
leaving like a fucking coward, not once, not twice, three times is a charm
sharing a bed
Feigning as my soft sweet boy—in truth a two-faced whore
letting me want you, want you, and wanting
reading my letters, not writing back once
giving me flowers twice, that's it, that's fucking it
making a promise 
never walking with me
leaving the life—on my account
lingering
always being tired, hangover or something 
“yeah…”
the stupid cheerful “oui” 
Not answering my messages for 2 days, then ruining me and my Sunday night (I didn't sleep btw, for like 4 days after that)
Spending weekends together—and was I supposed to know what you meant by that? I did.
Never watching my shows
Not fixing anything 
Never trying 
Locking me away in a mental box labelled “bro” and “DANGER - she loves me!” RUN!!!
Mirroring my microexpressions in a random bar
Never being sorry…
Hiding behind not knowing and “a convoluted joke” or “a girl I am dating…
yeah, off-and-on more than a year now, I guess”
Building more walls
smelling my hair in the hallway that second time you left
playing stupid
Watching me leave with your door ajar, not going after me, not saying anything, just watching.
Trying with her
not trying with me
wearing masks
acting all healed and nonchalant…fucking disgusting 
Saying you loved me right before 
never actually checking in on me for a whole year!!!
not touching me for 3 weeks after a fight where I did all the fighting, because you just checked out…fucking dead weight 

Telling me about her like I was an old buddy—I used to swallow your cum, I am sure you remember—it ruined my night, btw and my morning, and my following week—I am still waiting to feel something—it’s like the world is spinning while I am falling and can't seem to stop
living on a fence—
crying in my arms then saying the most heart-retching shit you can imagine
something like: “I am not enjoying spending time with you anymore” 
implying something like: “I did enjoy spending time with you, at some point, but not anymore, no” and
calling that shit love—love is a verb, not a unicorn feeling—it means little if you never show up
Chasing the thrill of being always right
using me as a placeholder for the last ex—every other year—I see a pattern 
abandoning a drowning friend
Making me the villain 
barely initiating 
Never going out to dance
pursuing someone who told you on the third date she wanted to get married 
Always “needing to see my face” in fucking missionary 
Puppy eyes, shaking hands, spending weekends together, Wednesdays, afternoon sex, Monday mornings,
meeting your friends, dinners, watering your plants, giving you head, wanting more of that, promising to figure it out, bro and “oh, my…” and
never holding my hand in public
calling me a “witch” in May 2025 and right after 
“trying again” with someone else (I never was too good at math, but I am assuming that's what “more than a year” means) 
Telling me about her like I am made of candyfloss—if you stub me I'll bleed. I do remember how you cried while leaning your forehead on my belly and I am
losing my mind
still
dancing on my grave, yet breathing every day
proving your ex was right
calling my grief ranting

NEVER COMING BACK 

Refusing to face the shallow, the empty, the soulless
Crying in my fucking face not once, not twice, three is a charm 
Trashing everything alive in me 


To love love


...if there is any god…you’ll make it right, right?