Wasted

Wasted tries,

pieces of a heart

I kept giving

long after you stopped asking.

Wasted ties,

every thread we pulled

until our hands were raw,

still hoping something broken

could remember what it was before.

Wasted highs,

the fleeting kind,

those little moments

I mistook for forever

when forever was already

leaving you behind.

Wasted cries,

falling quietly

where you could never hear them,

each tear another prayer

sent into a silence

that never answered back.

Wasted lies,

yours, mine,

the ones we told ourselves

just to make the ending

feel less like an ending.

And now I count what’s left:

wasted tries,

wasted ties,

wasted highs,

wasted cries,

wasted lies,

and somehow,

after all that waste,

I still find myself wondering

if loving you

was the only thing

I never considered

a waste.