another story

they only wanted you
to grow up through me.

not to love,
not to stay—
just to use me
as a stepping stone
to their next self.

and who am I to stop them?
let them.

I write anyway.
you’ll just be
another story I wrote.
another chapter
in my portfolio of becoming.

thank you
for the material.

when I curate
an exhibition of everything
i’ve ever created
and loved—

you’ll be there too.
a soft echo
on one of the walls.
a part of the story,
but never the whole.