Destiny is Dead and Gone

Written during freshman year.

It’s funny how I replace
our trust and friendship
with romanticized feelings;
impossible dreams
that wouldn’t work if we tried.

But still we sigh.
We sigh at how beautiful
it would be,
should be.

But why should I obey this fate,
when “star-crossed” is dead to me?

We hold on,
hoping that magically everything changes,
and you won’t have to hide
(and neither will I)
from what fits.

So everything dies,
and rebelliously, I cry;
“These aren’t my stars,
this isn’t my path,
destiny is a thing of the past.”

But only when you cross my mind,
and only when I think
of back when I knew you.

Only when I realize
that I lived through
the death of you.

But, in the long run,
I refuse to deem myself
“heartbroken”
for anyone but you;
my history.

But for all of these multi-subjected
poetically sick words,
everything leads back
to you.

Because I refuse to believe
it wasn’t meant to be.