“You don’t love me anymore?”
It comes out in a whisper, the question I’ve asked but never want answered.
Lips set in a line so thin they’d next disappear
Fists clenched, pretending this is painful to anyone other than me.
Should’ve known.
He says,
it’s not that he doesn’t love me anymore
but that he never loved me anyways.
Not now. Not ever.
We had something. No, nothing.
He says,
it wasn’t real. It didn’t happen.
It didn’t happen?
Then was it the romantic day dream of a young girl?
A series of imagined events?
He’s wrong.
Memories so vivid couldn’t be false.
It was real.
It happened.
The way his laughter felt as it brushed my skin.
The cloud of cinnamon and dark roast that followed where he went and lingered where he’d been.
The depth and honesty in his dark irises.
He loved me.
I’m sure of it.
But not anymore.
YOU ARE READING
Assorted Poetry
PoetryI'm actually not a poet. The ones in this collection were predominantly written for school assignments. Even so, I thought I would share them with my readers on wattpad. I would love to hear any thoughts on them.
