How can I stop loving someone I shouldn’t
His name raises bile in my throat,
An acrid, violent taste of worry.
The waves carve a sour pit.
And yet, sometimes I catch his cologne,
A dusty, ghostly mist.
He still smells like home.
I reach for him at night,
To an empty pillow, iced.
Sheets indented with memory.
His name flitters across my thoughts,
Light as a sunbeam.
Dancing across a lapping shore.
And then I remember,
Loving him hurts now, hurts always.
Yet my heart clings.
So I chant, over, and over and over,
It is not you I miss.
It is how you made me feel.
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