Choices.

I wrote this for my ex when I lived in Paris and honestly that place made me so forgiving and melancholic, it was lovely. 

There’s only so many mistakes

Before I know they’re choices.

There’s no mistaking that there’s no

Changing you.

 

I don’t know how we managed,

So fiery for so long.

Strange boy, strung up girl,

Square peg, round hole.

 

And yet still I wouldn’t want you

To choose mediocrity.

Over those choices of him and me,

I’m not angry. Neither’s he. So go. Succeed.

 

Let’s start again without ever meeting.

Don’t apologise just live,

In a way that says ‘I’m sorry.’

Flourish and I’ll forgive you.

 

Take from me what you want to keep,

A memory, a testimony. Then leave,

The rest was always through.

A case of choosing me or choosing you.

 

 

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