hav·​ing dat·ed

I hate having dated

Hate knowing what could have been

If not for me

Or not their fire

If not for fire or lack thereof.

If not for me,

we would have dated more.

If not for him,

or him or him or him or

him

Now every hesitation is a portal to a scenario that worked with another

A complement to their shortcoming

Proof that I've made a mistake.

Now I look at my corpse sideways,

dead on arrival to a new fling.

I sing quietly to myself for just a moment.

Fear streams in me,

standards super-scored

to the detriment of my content.

Where will I find you

When will I realize you are but a shadow?

I open the closet door and look inside,

chasing my second half,

horns cast by counter-shadows,

vanishing with every other step.

I look and I look, and within I find more corners,

those that continue, shadows that continue, continue

can't take you

   back with me, because you do not exist.

They have all existed.

I've known many of them

and been known by a few

each of Us bore unique fruit,

fruit now weighing down the basket I carry