Endless Endings

I just want it to be over.
I thought without feeling
two springtimes ago.
Two long years later
I find myself slipping
down a precipice of papers
that I don’t understand.
Other people’s words
ending what we built,
ending what we broke.

Petitioner requests
dissolution of marriage
based on
1. irreconcilable differences
2. incurable insanity.
Check one box
or the other,
other people’s words.

Where is box
3:
met when young and naïve
wish we’d fought more
wish we’d kissed more
wish you hadn’t left me alone
with your mom so many hours
wish you’d heard what was said
wish you’d been brave enough to see
wish I’d been brave enough to make you
wish we hadn’t dug that trench
that I foolishly filled
with anything but you.

Check.
Please.

I’ve had it with these forms.
I can’t find the field
to add that I’m grateful
for everything you gave,
for everything we made,
that I’m so sorry
I didn’t know myself
enough to give us a chance.

Where do I write in
the kids we’d already named
while laughing and walking to class
hand in hand?
Where can I sketch
the bright little faces
we’d already imagined?
Which one of us
is now responsible
for those memories?

I’m signing my name now
to help dull the pain
but I don’t want it to end like this.
There’s just no good way to kill.
Even as I’m starving
our changing, fading love,
I still sneak it morsels
of warm happy memories
and guilt over promises
it hurts so much to break.
My love, it’s still alive.

So take my hand.
Let’s just keep on ending.