Your laughter alone was enough to heal the bruises.
Missing the small things is causing me to lose it.
Hour long phone calls and meeting half-way,
kissing and adventures when we rode the subway.
Cookouts every week, and the 4th of July,
giving me no doubt that you were “the” guy.
Beginning to argue, developing a habit.
Fighting for the last word, when neither could have it.
Revealing your armor in the form of a fist,
you exhausted my good sense, my mind refusing to exist.
Reviving my instincts, I decided to leave.
It broke my heart to see a grown man grieve.
Begging for a chance that you were already given,
the strength of my refusals gave me something to believe in.
Quitting all bad habits, a goal you failed to accomplish.
How does it feel, to be beneath someone you dreamed to abolish?
Holding onto the anger that you left over,
impossible to let go without any closure.
Missing you internally, I still sleep in your shirts,
knowing that we could never be is the only truth that hurts.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem