if i were to be completely honest with you i’m afraid you would never talk to me again for, if i were to be completely honest with you, like wood burning against the damp earth, words would crackle hard on my lips, hanging from my throat, out towards the world.
i would close my eyes for i wouldn’t want to see the question marks on the floor asking “why” and “why now” and all the things in between for, if i were to be completely honest with you, i would say that, like a centripetal force drawing both of us inward, this pains me too.
but instead, i couldn’t be completely honest with you, for time does not endure and time, ever since, has never been our strongest suit. space is boundless and it will continue to be.
and so with closed eyes, i would move to the path in front of me, leaving words of leaving and uncertainty behind, and the rest burning in my throat.
for that would be the best i could give and honestly, dear, i apologize –