Gratitude From The Forgotten-A Poem

Still, he doesn’t think about me
And my name has faded to the tip of his tongue….
Can’t say I’m dreading this release from his memory
I, like brittle leaves, fall…brilliant and orange into the wind
Away from him
And where would the breeze take me but back to myself
I’d thought the worst part was being a faint recollection
Some distant thought triggered by a familiar smell or object
Get him reminiscing about our talks, my body and how it fit his own
But he let me go, easily….stone cold and stoic
Took what I brought him and wore it out, made it forgettable
Life’s little lessons come sharply but this one….
This one opened my eyes to all the mysteries, promises
Everything I hadn’t explored or enjoyed being completely alone
My adventure began at the cusp of rejection and self discovery
And sometimes, my plans, now independent from him
Radical and momentous, scare the shit out of me
But I am grateful that they are MY OWN

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