you i worshipped

i don't know
what to feel anymore
a sense of finality, a peace
that covers the mess
of lies between us
an unfinished conversation, we are
a letter half-written, with
no reply in sight,
the unfinished novel
that moulders on the writer's desk
and i loathe this
i am not okay
with our unfinished state,
i needed an ending
i could understand, an encore
as the applause faded
into the night air
i don't know
it's a past of what-ifs and why-mes
and i cannot detangle the good times
from the times that felt
like dying
the picture blurred and spotted
even in my mind.
her limbs around me,
i cannot even remember this bliss
without also the times she would
not touch me she would not
and she will not
touch me.