My fault

I was young and restless when I found you drinking by the bar. I was trying to run away from the lies that came looking for me and you were smoking with your eyes closed. It was a Sunday after twelve, winter was strong and people were dancing. 

I was confused and clumsy when I got you to talk with me. I was an obsession waiting to happen, you were nervous and with the tic of your hands. It seemed you were lacking nicotine. 

We knew of each other without a word being spoken, we didn’t say it but we knew it.

You were games and direct, my hands got burnt one, two, three many times. It wasn’t me being me yet it was me being stupid. You wanted to try what was happening, but I was looking for different ideas and my wrist was getting burn marks and everything was twisted. Everything was too much, too slow.

You were making me laugh and getting colder, your smoke was disappearing and your name sounded weird in my lips, foreigner. I wasn’t paying attention enough, I was growing up, accepting what was done and it wasn’t me anymore. 

I was dumb and reckless when you met me. However, this time I was true and fixed, and I called you for a goodbye. The circle needed to come to an end. 

I know you are the weakness of the year, that kryptonite is in with you. 

Yet we aren’t good and wish it luck. I deserved a goodbye, I said I was growing up and I started needing closure and no more ghosts with me. I said it wasn’t you, it was me all along.

T.A.