Half-Measures

Where devotion met hesitation

If I had the heavens within reach,
I would have unstitched the stars for you-
placed them like offerings in your open palms.
But that vow belonged to another life,
and this one has made me wiser.

I have found contentment in still waters;
you, I think, still thrash in the tide.
You call it love,
but what you mean is regret-
and I cannot cradle both our ghosts forever.

Once, I would have bent the cosmos to bridge the distance.
Now I see the truth:
you never stepped forward when the world opened its door.
You mistook my devotion for permanence,
and my silence for patience.

If you had been quicker,
or braver,
or less enamored with your own reflection,
perhaps we might have been something divine.
But I will not tear myself open
for someone who only learns love through absence.

Still, I hold a gentleness for you-
a light that flickers quietly in memory,
no longer asking to be fed.
It is not cruelty that keeps me away,
but the knowledge that I have outgrown your half-measures.

I hope you find your peace,
though not at the cost of mine.
For I have learned-
some loves are constellations never meant to align,
and mercy sometimes looks like walking away.

-Koii

Reviews

[RomaJ]

Kailei, this poem beautifully balances heartbreak and wisdom. The imagery of “unstitched stars” and “constellations never meant to align” gives it a luminous, cosmic feel, while the emotional honesty keeps it grounded. I love how it shows that love isn’t always holding on--sometimes it’s knowing when to step back. The idea of “half-measures” as a reason to protect one’s own peace is both tender and powerful. A graceful, striking reflection on love, loss, and growth.