I wish these thoughts were ghosts
instead of breathing things
that press against the walls of my skull
like they still belong there.
I wish you didn’t live
in every corner of my mind.
In the pauses between words,
in the seconds before decisions
where I still, somehow, choose you first.
I wish habit would loosen its grip,
that my hands wouldn’t reach for a phone
to tell you about a day
you’re no longer part of.
I wish I didn’t fold so easily
at the mere outline of you,
like my strength was something
you took when you left.
I wish admiration would decay,
rot out like something overdue.
Still it lingers, stubborn,
refusing to become something I can hate.
I say I don’t want you,
but the words feel rehearsed,
like lines I never believed in.
And the cruelest part?
I say I don’t love you anymore,
I say I’m moving on…
but if that were true,
these wishes
wouldn’t still be here.