This Is How It Feels To Be Broken And Scattered Across A City
The parts of me that belonged to you
are now strewn across this city we once loved.
I found myself in pieces
in the canned food aisle
of the grocery store
because they had run out of tuna
and tuna was your favourite
but I have run out of you.
I felt myself crumble
in the park
when the air I breathed
stung with your familiar scent
rain and earth
the smell of a forest in a city
an impossibility.
I fell apart on the terrace
of the building
where you told me
you loved nothing more than me
where you told me
you were tired of fixing us
fixing you, fixing me
Fixing any of this.
I wish someone had taught me
how to love something like you
something impossible
something beautiful
something that does not know
how to forgive nor forget
these broken parts of me.
I wish someone had told me
that when you left
I would be nothing
but this forgotten,
broken,
damaged thing
lost in a prison
I have made of my own body.
But more than anything,
I wish someone had helped me
understand
that things like you are not meant
to be held onto so tightly.
I wonder sometimes
if you look across this city
that we once loved, laughed and wept in
and imagine me
smiling at you
from that secret spot
on the horizon
that we once called ours,
and is now just mine alone. 
