I Thought You Were My Peace

I thought you were my peace,
but you were more like
a beaded bracelet,
or a handmade charm 
sold in a store
promising fortunes 
it could not deliver.

I thought you were my peace,
but you just cloaked my chaos
with plastic flowers
from your garden
of rehearsed sentences.

now I find peace in everything else:
the way you left
the way you moved on from me
the way I found solace in writing about it

and most importantly,
I have found peace
in the way
that I have finally begun
to move on.