i wanted to write about you

i wanted to write about you, about us–
to tell the world how we have loved each other,
and i cannot find the words, only the pain
and the bittersweet rhyme on an unwritten poetry.
i wanted to write about you, about us–
to tell the world how it ended,
and i cannot muster every ounce of confidence
and throw the truth into the open.
i wanted to write about you, about us–
to tell you how much i feel about you still,
and i cannot because i am scared of the words
i’d hear from you after you’d hear my truth.
i wanted to write about you, about us–
about how we were, how we have been, how we are,
and i cannot gather all my thoughts as my heart is
battling with my head, my emotions cloud my words.
i wanted to write about you, about us–
but i cannot find the words worthy of you, of us
becuase my heart has exhausted every single letter of my strength,
so i listen to songs that do not help but only make me sadder.
i wanted to write about you, about us–
something that isn’t cliche, something that’s new,
but i cannot find the freshness in this same old feeling–
the self-same feeling that cuts me sharp as it makes me happy,
so i re-read our conversations–all the pain, all the regret, all the longing.
i wanted to write about you, about us–
the perfect piece of literature, unblemished of all the dullness and banality,
something worthy of what we were, what we had been–
but i couldn’t find the sparks of life and love
that would bring the novelty of this piece into the world.
i wanted to write about you, about us–
and i didn’t want it to be a cliche; i wanted it better,
but it was at that moment that i realized
writing about you, about us, is the cliche.