mirror

How am I suppose to let something go
 that I never possessed to begin with?

You were never mine, we just played
 with the idea of possibility, of 
discovery, and you asked me not 
to judge you based on my past
 and I asked you to promise to 
not leave me in the dark, and
 you promised. You promised.

But I found myself crumbled 
on the floor, early this morning,
 drenched in the absence of light,
 terrified you would become another
 notch in the woodwork and another
 example that I have failed with
 another man after countless attempts 
to be seen as beautifully enough.

How can I be okay with another
 mute rejection?

How is it so difficult
 to use words weighted in closure?

Why is it so difficult to look at 
myself in the mirror?