when I'm high I think I miss you,
 but have been dismissing the emotion 
 because it feels too much like a token 
 left over from what you left broken
 
especially now, 
 as I've begun spoken word and 
 get to have the last word on a stage 
 where it's okay for me to rage 
 and say what I can't fucking 
 keep on the page:

the endless ways you say anything
 but the true things and excused 
 yourself from the strings attached 
 by acting childish and 
 I'm not sure how I missed the signs 
 I shouldn't have wasted so much time 
 asking why I wasn't good enough 
  for your attention 

because - in truth -
 I was just lacking internal direction 
 from too many loves that were only 
 real in one dimension;
they're ones I don't like to mention 
 because the tension between them is already 
 bursting the seems of what my heart wanted to scream 
  when you were pleading to me that you loved me, 
while picking up to leave - 
said things were just too hard -

and though we came far, 
its not as far as I'll go without you, 
 but don't doubt on some level 
 you'll like this is about you;
So I'll maker sure to say it loud enough for you to hear:
 I'm better off without you and need to make it clear 
 I only appreciate you for making my worst fear 
 a reality by abandoning - emotionally stranding me
  after moving across country, 
  and not to mention owing me money -

because after all this time,
   I forgot how lovely it is to 
  feel complete with my feet up and 
  lonely with just an 1/8th of weed to cope - 
float on a hope that I thought would be the rope 
 I'd hang by if I didn't hang on -
and now that you're gone I see how long 
 it's been that I was strong for myself 
 without swiping and liking, or 
 thinking personal wealth was the same as personal health 

well, on second thought 
 it's not that I miss you but 
 might just reminisce too much and 
 if you think you bought anything from me, please: 
i still have the receipt and I don't take returns -
see I've learned to make sense of what's past tense 
 as what I'm meant to grow from and
  focus on who I'll become as a minority of one 

because what's done is fucking done: 
 - c’est la vie and I'll let it be - like your memory -
between the lines and out of mind so 
  I can get back to living out 
  the freedoms of being me, truly