adieu, adieu, adieu
i’m starting to say my goodbyes, the only way i know how — quietly, in tip toe movements, as in the sound my fingers make when they walk down your spine, as in the whispers you breathe while asleep. i am starting to say farewell for the last time, in the only way i can, in the spaces between the words we could never say and inside the empty promises we accidentally made. i am starting to say it’s okay, (i’ll be okay), it’s going to be okay, to walk away from, to jump away, to run even and sprint from these moments i had with you, as if to speed up to the moments i won’t have with you anymore, moments i’ll be alone (moments i’ll be okay alone). i’m starting to say good night, while turning off the porch lights and putting out the fire that has always burned too brightly on the torch. i’m starting to say adieu, adieu, adieu, adieu, the only way i know how to — with respect to my heart and with regret, but only with regret that i didn’t begin earlier, as i’ve always known this would be my longest goodbye.
I’ll feel like this one day.. and when I finally feel like I can move on, I’ll repost this.
