Maybe you’re used to saying goodbye. Maybe I’m used to being sad.
I sat down to write and all I could think of is how you don’t love me.
The thing you’d never say because it hurts too much. There’s your haiku – go.
Somehow you got your freedom and me. What was I? And were we worth it?
Friendship is not worth the reminder that for you I was not enough.
You opened my world, but I never felt like I belonged there with you.
My words came from you. To lose you was to lose me and all I’ve written.