This is the last poem that I'll write for you.
That, I promise. 
I have no idea how long this'll be or if it'll fit in a piece, in a page or how long would it be. 
It's possible that I won't be able to memorize this immediately but I promise you, 
This will be the last poem that I'll write for you. 

Remember this, even if I reach daylight writing, I will not close my eyes. 

I will use all the words that could possibly remind me of your name or whatever I called you.
love, dear, babe, bae , my wife... what else? 

I don't care if I reach whatever number of stanzas.
But I cannot let these words live inside of me, 
that's why I promise you, this will be the last poem that I'll write for you.

I will start from the very beginning, 
On how you smiled at me and asked me where I lived. 
You didn't notice the cobwebs on the ceiling,
You weren't even scared by the cockroach that came when you visited,
But you didn't even look at the books that was beside my bed, sleeping, the only things I'm with.

I will start from the very beginning, on how you hugged me when I said "I love you."
On how you kissed my forehead and said "you're important to me" 
And I'm that idiot who got so happy, wasn't it clear that I didn't want to be important?
I do not want to be important. 

I am not an antique mirror that you have owned for a long time. 
That you only look at to remind yourself that you are beautiful, 
I do not want to be important. 
I am not a phone that you grab from your pocket when you need a solution when you lose connection to your world that's too big to give you attention,
I do not want to be important.
I am not a necklace you would wear on special occasions when you feel as if you are still lacking.
I am not to be placed inside a box when you sleep at night in fear to get choked by my embrace when you're sound asleep or be placed inside a box and keep me in a corner of a cabinet in fear that I'll be stolen by others.
I do not want to be important.

What I want is to be loved. 

What I need is to be loved.

I need you to love me like your coffee in the morning, accepting of it's sweetness and bitterness.
The need for it's warmth but not to be set aside because it has grown cold.
I need you to love me like your own office, where you know what is what and where is what , you know where am I hiding my hidden thorns, purpose, dirt, secrets...   
Thorns, purpose, dirt, secrets.

I need you to love me like your pillow, hugging it at night when you feel cold, leaning on it even if it's hot, whispering your wildest dreams. 
I do not want to be important, what I want is to be loved.
What I need is to be loved.

And I wrote just for you to love me, so please,
Forgive me but I will write until I use all the words that could possibly remind me of your name. Forgive me but I will write for you to forgive me 
Because there was someone who told me once that a person who doesn't know how to forgive won't be able to write, so my love, 
I will take this chance, this last chance to write a poem for you,
So let's make a deal. 
I'll forgive you but you'll have to forgive me too.

Forgive me for not picking myself up when I was in tears and I'll forgive you for not shedding a tear.
Forgive me for not being quiet and I'll forgive you for not saying a word. 
Forgive me for not leaving and I'll forgive you for not staying.
Forgive me for not forgetting you and I'll forgive you for not choosing me, my love.
Let's make a deal, I'll forgive you but you'll have to forgive me too.
 
Forgive me for not letting go and I'll forgive you for not holding on. 
Forgive me for not staying away and I'll forgive you for not coming near.
Forgive me for not giving up and I'll forgive you for not taking the risk.
Forgive me for not hating you and I'll forgive you for not loving me, my love.
Let's make a deal, I'll forgive you but you'll have to forgive me too.
And to finally end this poem that has lived long enough and also, forgive me for making this too long.
But I promise, this is the last, this is the last, this is the last...

I will start again from the very beginning, on how you smiled at me and asked me where I lived.
I will start again from the very beginning, on how you smiled at me.
I will start again from the very beginning.
I will start again...
I will start..

This will be the last poem that I'll write for you.

Wait, no.

This will be the last poem that I'll write about you.

I loved you but there is nothing left of me to love you more.
I loved you, you , but I am done with you.