Strangers?

A year ago I saw you with a girl 

and died 12 times in a single heartbeat. 

Tonight I died just once, 

and I stayed standing on my own feet. 

It's not that you hurt less, 

I'm just building a tolerance to pain. 

But why do you still hurt? 

Maybe it's because it's hard to let go 

of someone who was all hands. 

Do your fingers still remember 

the shape of my hipbones, 

the curve of my spine? 

You knew me better than anyone. 

And now we are just two more strangers. 

I hope you see me 

and realize everything you lost. 

I had a lot of reasons to give up on you, 

but I still chose to stay. 

You had a lot of reasons to stay, 

but you chose to give up. 

And so there you are and here I am, 

two strangers filled with so many 

what-ifs and could've been's. 

I guess we will never know. 

And maybe I hate you 

because I will have to wonder 

for the rest of my life. 

You are poems that I will never finish 

and dreams that I cannot keep. 

— m.f. // Strangers?