Page 101 of Poems He Wrote

A war wages in my brain. Should I go to him right now and fight for us, or let him go, and maybe never have him again?

Devastation fills me, as I realize how stupid I was, how cruel to him I was. He once told me he stopped writing after he met me, but only now am I connecting the dots. The puzzle pieces finally fit together, painting the whole picture.

He didn’t actually stop writing when hemetme, he stopped writing when helostme. With the two of those being so close together, I see how it could’ve been confusing to me, and now that he’s lost me again, the words I took away have come back. He took them back, put them in their rightful place.

I take another page into my hands, picking one of the poems. This is a part of him I never got the chance to meet. The part of him I never doubted I would love as much as I love the rest. The poems are his center and his core, everything that makes him what he is.

Her, the one I love

I created her

From every chunk of earth

I laid my foot upon

From the freezing breath of December air

In the winters she wasn’t there

I created her

From the sweet scent of eastern winds

From every grain of scorching sand

From Sun and poems lost in heat

From every summer she wasn’t there

I created her

From secret moans of silky nights

From pores of palms of empty despair

From grasps of sorrow and fear of autumn

Which brought the colors of copper hair

The title of the poem sits on the paper in bold letters, smudges all around it. It looks like he ran his pen over it so many times that the page almost ripped. I think of his palms and how gorgeous they might have looked with ink smudges on them. I look at the words, feeling them rip my chest open as I read them out loud, again and again, wishing it was his voice reciting these to me, the sand of it tingling my ears. To me, the one he loves…

I pick up another one, tears rolling down my cheeks, hitting the paper with a soft thud, as my chin trembles.

To Her

I gave her fire,

She wanted a flame

I gave her rain,

She wanted a tear

I gave her forest,

She wanted a leaf

I gave her river,

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