You Must Learn

I hope you are ready
for the death you made of me.
Do not say you didn’t know.
Even neglect has intention.

Everything, eventually,
reaches a point of no return.
And I have reached it.

I have seen the borders of this world,
their hard, cold edges.
Sometimes they seem endless,
like your silence.

You believed I would remain,
burning, waiting, kneeling
in the half-light of almost-love.
But I walked to the threshold
where illusion ends.

You were not a destiny—
only a habit of longing.
Not a soul,
only a shape I filled.

You taught me how to die
to the self that wanted you.
And so I did.

Now you must learn
how to live
without the one
who once lived for you.