loss/love

the precipitance of loss/the precipice of love. we meet/we love/we lose. we haven’t talked in six months but your birthday was yesterday and i almost sent a message, almost. i think of you when i see frogs and mushrooms and that shade of green your favorite sweater was. i wish i knew how your day was, i wish i could ask. i still love you, i always will, even if we don’t talk— there’s always a place for the people i’ve loved left in my mind, even if we never speak again. the backdoor to my home and my heart is always open, and there’s a place in the spare room if you want it. halted love, interrupted before it could truly begin. give me a moment to mourn, maybe-love, the housekey is under the front mat.