There should be a measurement for this—
The rate at which wanting decays
Does it halve like uranium? Every 4.5 billion years
A little less desperate to be touched?
Or is it more like carbon? 5,730 years
And I’ll only want you half as much as I do now?
Scientists haven’t studied the isotopes of heartache
Haven’t carbon-dated the residue of longing
Haven’t mapped the geological layers
Of all the words I’ve swallowed instead of saying
So I’m left to measure it myself
In cups of coffee gone cold
in songs I can no longer listen to
In the phantom weight of your head on my shoulder
In how many blocks I’m willing to walk
To avoid places you might be
I want to believe in exponential decay
That tomorrow I will want you
Only half as much as today
And the next day, half again
Until wanting you is so small
It could balance on the head of a pin
Alongside all those dancing angels
We used to argue about
But the truth is
Some elements never fully disappear
They just become trace amounts
Background radiation
The kind you learn to live with
The kind that changes your cells
So slowly you don’t notice
Until one day you realize
You’ve become an entirely different person
Composed of all the things
You couldn’t let go of
