dearest

nineteen years // and put myself together again

This is a goodbye

a thank you (only not really) 

for taking four years of my life from me 

the last of my teenage years

I will not carry you into adulthood

a burden on my back to carry 

you can get off here

and walk yourself home

I cannot look back 

with rose-tinted glasses

without seeing your face, your name 

and the fact that you have moved on. 

Four years is one-thousand four-hundred and sixty days. 

thirty-five thousand and forty hours. 

That is long enough. 

There will be no further journey for you and I

This is a liberation, a revolution, a coup

this is the end of your all encompassing power 

the way you have permeated my life in every aspect

you taught me how to hate myself 

you taught me to be afraid 

so be it then, 

take your words, like sharpened daggers, 

your hateful ideology

climb off my back 

there is no place for you 

in this glorious dawn. 

Author's Note

jan 2017- written during a manic phase, I like the raw emotion but I don't think the last two sentences flow well and I dislike the back metaphor.