Your move

and so I choose not to give so much
so I will not hurt when you don't give back to me.

I'm not sure if the wall that exists between us
is your fault or mine; you gave to me the bricks I need
but it is my choice to use them.

it is so hard to tell if you are reaching out
but to be honest it seems to me
that we are relieved at each goodbye
that's said, because we know that we
have done the thing that good friends do,
to try, to chatter small, to test
the waters to see if either could
go deeper to confront the mess.

but it won't be me that engages with you
because I do not want to be
that person who is both first and last;
first to run to, hollering "pick me!"
but last to whom you share your past.

and so we do the deed of pretending
that you are not hoping to be rid of me
and I am not hoping to punish you
when you finally let go

by making you want what is on my heart
yet knowing that you will not receive
any emotion I may have stumbled on;
that this is a conscious choice conceived -
to build your wall by my design -
once made, you cannot change its run.

what friends are indeed forever
as we hint that we are done
but keep chasing each other off our lives
only for us both to spy at each other from a distance.

I am waiting for the bell to knell
prepared to signal the end of it all
and all because
I am tired of being for you.