"You don't know how to let go."

Right you are,

I have been lost in the dip of your throat,

the curve of your mouth,

the feel of your skin.

 

I have been drenched in the past,

the night we lay together,

the night you laughed into the curve of my neck,

at midnight when you kissed the uncertaintiy from my mouth,

When you shut up my laughter with your touch.

 

I have been woken up by the dimples of your cheeks,

the empty hallway glances,

the petite smirks of interest when there is an overheard conversation,

Or your girl, her eyes glimmering as yours are empty,

Because you know her hips don't feel the same as mine. 

 

"You're a puppet."

I know,

because you used me,

like there were fishing line wrapped around my lips,

and limp limbs eager to please,

for I didn't know the way this would actually go.

 

We don't talk,

but when our eyes meet,

I know you don't know how to forget me,

just like I don't know how to forget you.

What is the point of letting go, if I won't be able to forget?