I’ve written pages and pages
about why you are who
you are and the way you are
penned the cocktail of assumptions
that lead to a conclusion 
that I still believe is correct

but after all this
I don’t think it’s healthy
for either of us
to remain
because I’m dead empty 
I know now, that I was 
throwing energy into 
a well 
like the one 
I found when I was young
and stared at a rippling
reflection
after throwing rocks
and limbs and earth
I remember that smell 
of damp moss
knowing how cold 
that black water could be

there was nothing I could
have ever said or done
that would have stopped
you
doing
what
did
because it was never 
my place

I’ll be seeing you
on the next turn