My Way Of Leaving

I didn’t leave in anger, or because love was gone

I left because staying would’ve asked me

to abandon myself

There was a small scene, my last words 

that meant to be understood

Carrying the meaning that not all connections

are meant to be continued

I took my feelings with me — carefully,

like returning borrowed books before they’re damaged

If I ever crossed your mind,

I hope it’s warm and gentle

Not as a loss, but as something

that passed through your life without hurting it

Some endings 

don’t need to be loud —

But to be real.