I don’t fall in love with people who care for me,

I fall in love with people who care for me in familiar ways

I don’t miss him,

I miss the way he made me hate myself

The Ted talk on romance advised me to trust my gut

I ended up throwing myself into the burning building

so eager to feel the sensation of this hot boxed affection connection

the problem?

I have never been afraid of your magic.

so when you disappeared

I was the only one in the room who did not expect it.

I swallowed myself when you left

and did not expect to spit you back out

again

and again

and again

science claims it takes approximately three months for the average human to break a habit.

I am clearly an above average specimen.

because my habit of running back to you is beginning to become a bit of a problem

and I want to call this hurting me cleansing you out of my system for good

insurance for an absence of relapse,

a guarantee of sorts

but I can’t tell the difference between a burning building and a lover

so what is my judgment good for?

On the good days, you used to call me a firework

I would clutch onto the words with pride

but I am more than a cliché hallmark card compliment

I am a firework set off in a grocery store at 4 in the morning.

always hitting my peaks in unconventional times and unconventional places

I never promised to be conventional,

I pledged to delusion and passion

hold my hand you can feel the electric static/ the shock of my conductive current

listen close,

can you hear it?

there is an entire universe stirring beneath my eyelids

look close,

tell me can you see it?

He calls me his porcelain fragile doll

I remind him there is a difference between sensitivity and weakness

he proceeds to show me ashes as if warning stares me in the face

the only thing I am afraid of is dying without stinging

I have been through burns and came out swinging

I remind him of the resiliency of firefighters-

and wasps

and children who grew up in angry homes

and of me.

The story ends with my mangled tower barely standing

but standing nonetheless

smoke bomb goes off

so do the roman candles

there are no page numbers here-

just empty spaces where your touch used to choke mine

and I do not miss it.

for the first time

I do not miss you.