I Don’t Think I Love You Anymore

I don’t think I love you anymore
but sometimes I wish I did.
I guess I couldn’t really know because we don’t talk —
but sometimes I wish we did.

I think about telling you about my life,
how strong I’ve become
and how much I love myself.

Sometimes I think you could love me now,
that someone could love me now —
that someone should love me now.

I think about how I let what I felt for you
seep into everything and take over.
I didn’t have anything else.
I didn’t want anything else.

Sometimes I think about how much I loved you.
I wish I could love someone that much again.
It might ruin me, but maybe I wouldn’t care.

I don’t think I love you anymore.
Sometimes I wish I didn’t love you then.
I wish I could love you now as this person,
this whole person who loves herself.

I think I could learn to love someone new.
I could learn to keep this new self and make new space.
I could learn how to need without erasing.

Sometimes I think I need to try
but mostly I want to know that you still see me
even if you can’t love me,
even if I can’t love you.

I want to know that you think I could be loved.
I want to know that you think I should be loved.
I just want to think that you might think of me.


Madelaine Walker Contributor Photo
Madelaine Walker : Anthropology enthusiast, bookworm & couch potato. In search of a life I’ll be proud to recount in old age. New Motto: Do no harm, but take no shit.