Thirty / Goodbye

I never really said goodbye

just I’m sorry and no response

and this has happened before.

I apologize to everyone who leaves.

Sometimes it’s me and sometimes it’s them

and both options are a house on fire

I am the house and I am on fire

I am the thing that is burning and the place that needs escaped

and maybe that is why they leave

it’s too hot

too hard to breathe

I love these people so hard I combust

leave no room for oxygen just ashen affection

So goodbye always sounds like sorry

like no response

like the only closure I get is the read receipts 

and a head nod every once in a while out in public

there is no emergency ladder

there is no smoke detector

there is no plan there’s just a fire and a girl and a house 

and I’m saying they always look the same.

A girl is a house on fire 

and apologies are a drop unto the flames

so goodbye

boy from Minnesota.

Goodbye girl with the basement tattoo.

Goodbye poet and poet and musician and poet

goodbye to all those I did not know I could smother.

I am both sorry and not.

Not over it

or anything

how can I move on with feet in the basement?

The foundation that never burns down

when all that’s left is an empty threshold

and a head nod

and sorry