Final Poem
I began to write this poem
Telling myself it would be the last
The last one I wrote to you
The last one I wrote because of you
Your final one
But I lied
I realize now
It will take more than weeks
More than months
More than years to stop thinking about your laugh
Or the plans we made in the sand
To stop letting my pencil sketch your name in notebooks
Or avoiding your name in my poems
I am young, but I am not naïve
I am blooming, but this is not my first spring
I am no stranger to the storm clouds
The sting of raindrops on my eyes
But I thought you were my niche
The chaos to compliment my own
Or that you cared…
My final poem to you will be a smile before bed
The sparkle in my eyes when love holds me close
The last tear I shed for you on a Tuesday
Or the way I let the wind pass through me
I cannot yet say what my last words will be to you
The last words I will type or speak or scribble
But I imagine they might end with “you”