November

one of many in a collection of love poems.

We haven’t spoken in five days.

It happened slowly.

It started with less in a day.
Then not replying until the next day.
Then no more voice notes.
Then no more substance.

We spent 419 days talking to each other
every
single
day.

I’m fighting for my life to not text you.
Have you thought of me once?
Don’t answer that
please.

I know I’m the asshole because this is what I
wanted for you.
To move on.
To be better.
To not need me.

And yet I sobbed about you this weekend
because our relationship has changed so
much and our conversations suck and you’re
not actually there when you’re there and I
think I’m supposed to see you next month but
now we’ve gone
five days
without talking.

And I guess I knew this day was coming.
But I didn’t realize
you wouldn’t say
goodbye.