He is gone or I am gone. It depends on the way I want to feel or which one of us will be the hero of my poetry.
What does it matter
Finding my lost golden key
If it nothing opens anymore
Or saying I shouldn’t go back home
If staying here doesn’t make you my home
Or how I waste my time on dating apps
When you’re also there to watch me
We don’t really talk to anyone
But we’re there to hurt ourselves
Why do you cry over the phone
And don’t even ring when all I need
Is to hear someone’s breath?
Who were you between saying
I was special and faking your name
Or maybe your identity
Or creating another profiles
To blame me for the things
I should’ve blamed you instead.
Your 14-hour silence
hurts my anxious head
and there’s no remedy for it
and I want to block you, and
forget you, and…
I can’t think after this,
Because I don’t really wanna lose you
But I guess we’re already lost
And I don’t want you to go
But you’re too far gone and
I didn’t want make you another poem
And this one now it’s just done.