My Gift

I decided to go back to an old chapter of my book,
One that has too many crossed-out names,
So that I could dot the I’s and cross the t’s.
Re-read the one chapter that made me who I am through,
Tear stains and constant new additions.
The one gift that never showed me happiness for long,
Managed to lose it during two months of arguments and two weeks of star signs,
Kept me awake when the whole world had gone to sleep.
Up late planning a future with you,
When I should have prepared myself for a future without you.
As I dust off the cover and open Pandora’s box,
The gift that introduced me to heartbreak.

Dear past flames,
I guess since I never blew out the last dancing flame,
Our story went on longer than it should have been.
Made itself the light at the end of the tunnel,
Neither one of us thought they would travel down.
I never thought I would write about you,
But since your flame, and your beauty was not hot enough to burn,
Burn these pages out of my mind I decided to reignite our flame.
And slowly write as it destroyed all the remnants of us.
And set fire to the home we once sheltered under.

Given I still do miss the moments we created,
But I can never enable myself to miss you.
Because you were a far cry from what we intended,
A late realization of truth,
A bouquet of thorns growing out each other’s hearts as we,
Lied to each other that we were the right people but the timing was off.
Yet there is no time where we, this, us could have worked.
Rather let me acknowledge that your love left when I said we should be friends.
I guess it was my fault for overstepping boundaries we had not created,
As we were merely acquaintances

I hope you are happy,
With an individual that cares for you and loves you the way you deserve.
You deserve the best and nothing below that.
So I apologize for not holding on to the gift you gave me,
But instead giving it back to you.
So you found someone who deserved it because I did not.

So as the flamed devour the thoughts of you,
I did think of you,
About how we could have been and how you were now.
And I remembered never to compare bedtime stories to true events

~Baker

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