Nicole Johnson

I’ve often dreamt about the day I would leave

Bags packed and stacked at the door—

I’d walk through the flames nonchalantly.

 

My brows would furrow from a blind rage,

as our home went up in flames.

I’d leave in a hurry, cut every corner closely.

 

I pictured us in one of our quarrels.

I accused you of not listening—

While I was accused of being the ice queen.

 

I never meant for this to happen.

Our worlds took different turns.

Our paths were no longer in sync.

 

I’d wish you the best,

But the best wasn’t with me.

 

You used to tell me that our love was one of a kind.

I used to feel that way too, sometimes.

I’m writing you this, because I suck at adieus.

 

I’d wish you happiness,

But, you know that’s not true.