Untitled

I have been staring into the passing car lights go into the abyss of man made pathways for so long, I have set aside and built my cup of tea to fail into getting cold.

The city is hinting at my growing old.

The lights are cannibals, I tell you. They streak into each other, immerse into one-ness and the light that wins the fight gets to take home the rider, tired. Clinging to the asphalt like blood to oxygen.

I am alone. Part me similarly gone.

Or should i say parts. The trees only taught me symbiosis. They did not teach me that the rocks that they root into are the brothers of grey structures i avoided my whole life. Running towards a xylem and phloem like existence.

Giving, giving, giving and giving in.

The air knows of its age. It has lived too long, too unchanged. And I have learned nothing from it. Industry yields a lethargy the soul cannot fathom, and the confusion of this entropy has yielded a system of mining what I cannot give anymore.

My love.

My love, I have failed you. My love, I have let you go.

I will not blame the trees or the leaves or the oxygen for making me believe in them. They had the right to exist. And so did you, my love. I should never have given you away like I did.

Never in pieces. Always a whole.

So here I am with my tea cold. Alone. Watching the cars put on a show. Holding a promise and a kiss in my hand, telling myself to let go. 

Like I let you go.