I have to believe these tremors are not real.
I have to believe that deep in your oasis, there are blue wavy things
And serene, lounge chairs for basking in the sun with wet feet.
I have to believe that my perception is unrealistic
And that you have not shed a tear at my departure
And that you know yourself better and bigger than even I.
I have to believe you decided we were not tangible,
That the potential was snuffed out, that you couldn’t love me and
That you knew deep in the pulse of your heart that
You knew what was best.
I have to let the maze of my mind demolish the exit towards you
And recognize that you letting go is what’s best
Because you have always known what’s best.
I have to hope that in the thick of these problematic realizations that
You are happy, carefree, and dancing on the shoreline
Amazed by the tiny sailboats disappearing from the horizon.
I might have accepted this but oh how I miss you.
These feelings weren’t fleeting but there is no point in rearview mirrors
Especially when the other party feels it is moot point
So don’t look back.
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