goodbye

I wish I could say

when you had left me

that everything we went through together

ceased to be relevant. That they were not at all

beautiful, not at all touching,

not all true. I wish I could say

that I ceased to remember at the very moment

that you began to forget me. Every single

Regina Spektor song, every night we spent

singing our troubles away, every cup of coffee

that I savored while you looked on with distaste.

Instead I lie on a bed in a dim room we do not share,

and I think, it’s lucky that we fizzled out

before the damage grew worse and forgetting

is no more an option than the only way

to carry on.

I write poems in the office—

                love has always been one for poetry—

and you study in the library. 

Life goes on

as it should.