Your phone sat open on the bed, pictures, videos, texts burned into my brain.
It hurt, but I could never be upset at you. Especially since it wasn't my place. We weren't even together anymore.
But he could. Oh boy could he get angry. Maybe I should've taken that as a sign back then, a warning of my life to come.
I watched in horror as you approached him, I knew him and I knew you, this wasn't going to end well.
Though I was numb I knew I couldn't let either of you get hurt, it'd hurt too much when the emotions hit later.
I watched him shove you and my mind was made up, as I pulled you away from him and stood between you and him.
I didn't know who I was protecting at that time, him from my rage, or you from his rage, now as years have passed, I know it was a bit of both.
The argument left my mind, I was hurt, but protecting you was my number one priority.
YOU ARE READING
Friends don't look at friends that way
PoetryPoetry I write at work when I miss my ex. Some is happy, most be sad.