• Tealight Press

Our Partings by Meily Tran

In my head, there are at least two of you.

The one that finds

Comfort in my stiff shoulder,

Stability in my sweaty palms,

Warmth in my arms’ embrace,

Love in my burdensome letters.

And the one that feels

Annoyance at my pleading smiles,

Boredom at my ingoing tendencies,

Guilt at my offered lunches,

Irritation at my flurry of texts.

You are neither.

You are neither in love or in hate with me. In fact, you are not in my life at all.

But that’s okay, I can forgive you for leaving me. I want you to say you love me. Out of love? Indifference?


I don’t. I don’t love you anymore.

I miss you. I wish you wouldn’t text me. It’s bothersome.

I'm busy.

It makes me nervous. It's late.

You’re too late.

I still think about you all the time. Just ignore me.

I want you to pay attention to me.

You’re good at that.

I don’t want to date you.

I want to hold your hand.

I want you to depend on me.

I want to learn who I am without you.

I don’t.

I want you to stay with me forever.

I want us to be soulmates again.

I don’t believe in fate.

I don’t believe in us.

There was never an us.

There was only ever

a You and an I and

a you With my four hands. Then, we

can decide Whether to let our

1, And there are only fingers

3, Two of us here an i.

and It’s okay, that just means I can

Except that is hold onto 2,

Your four hands 4,


Or Bleed.

Meily Tran (she/her) is a high school senior and aspiring creative writing major from Southern California. Throughout her years in high school, she has contributed to her school's newspaper, creative magazine, and slam poetry club. Currently, she is working on expanding the reach of her work outside of school by submitting to competitions and literary magazines (and universities, if college applications count). Most of her works are first drafted at 1 AM and are inspired by her tragic sapphic love life, sporadic identity crises, and beloved pet chihuahua.

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