POETRY THAT STAYS

I have to leave before they do

I had always been oversensitive. I could somehow notice the frail transitions of how I was treated. I could feel the distance expanding by absence. I could interpret the way the eyes don't settle on mine as his way of showing his astray interest or the way they don't look at me when we're talking. I could read the truth in someone's said lies.

 I could sense if I am no longer needed. I could feel if I am being unwanted. Maybe this is why I am scared of investing my body on someone's bed because it will finally reveal how ugly my curves and skin could be. 

I am scared to spill my secrets on someone's tea cup and wait for them to keep them unwashed. Maybe this became my expected scene every time someone tells me they want to be in my life. I wait for them to change as they undress my colors only to realize I am just grey and blue. And if I see the smallest detail of changes, I know it's my time to go first. 

It's my time to leave. It's my time not to show up. It's my time not to beg. It's my time to completely lose everything that has the tendency of losing. I stopped fighting because I expect defeat every goddamned time. I thought I was saving myself by running first when I could sense his steps finally leading on the door. 

I thought I could keep the same amount of how the rain pours if I cry silently. I want to believe I am worth staying for.

I thought that by observing the way they'll leave me I could change the plot of being the sorry one. I thought it could make things better for me.

I wait for them to love me only to watch them at the end slowly unloving me. I thought that by leaving first, I could change their minds from leaving me.