You can't break up with a soul mate [a love story in poetic verse]

28 | forget my own name

How can he make me forget my own name?
by making up a new one for me?

yes
he was so able

How can he make me want him so?
by neglecting me?
  been there done that

How can he love me?
by not loving me
         by missing me?
              Check check check

I swear I want to never see him again
            then I die at the thought
of never watching a snowstorm with him
locked up in our home

I see my tombstone
my date of birth and death
         my sighs
his lonely breath

I think he made a poem
into dusty reality
how does he convince me
         the sky is green?

How can black and white
make red with him
I am waiting
         waiting in anticipation
of his next colour schemes

yet I want nothing to do with all the poems

he says

I'm not a poet. I'm a salesman.

for me he will be anything I want

how can he be a poet one day
and not the next?

is the poem even real then?
Is seeing me naked next week
all he wants from me?

How much more of my body
and soul can he take from me?

That night I finish the whole bottle of wine
half a pack of smokes
smoke until my lung aches
as much as my black heart
smoke until I can't breathe Jared's name
until all I want is him in my sheets
smoke in bed
until I cry myself to sleep
I wake up dead inside
ashes for breakfast.

Another cycle of loneliness
torture
I go to work
come home alone
cook
talk to no one
avoid all calls
except his
the next morning after my coffee

I booked a room at our hotel next Tuesday.
Be at the lobby at 6:00 p.m.

This will be the last time.

Then I better make it memorable.

I remember reading once
in a Sylvia Plath poem
men like him are vampires
I didn't know what she meant
                   now I do

yet still can't keep away
every day this growing plant inside me
wanting him
to keep giving me what my body craves
it's a rebirth
it's a death
it's a machine wash in my chest.

I know what I should do
text back David.
Be normal.

After Jared
how can I even be
normal again?
I count down the days
until Tuesday arrives
I wear something so sexy
a black tight dress
all my curves are touchable
all my words are silent
my eyes are made up
my hair is piled up high
my heels are high

I am drinking my vodka
waiting desperately
for the tone of his deep voice
my name
formulated
paused
pronounced
on his lips
that alone makes my heart
forget everything else
even my own first name.

Fleur,  je t'adore.  You look incredible.

I was deep
sunk so hard
into him.
No one else existed
but us
all my plans of breaking up
I cracked them in my mouth
alongside my last ice cubes.