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You're Not Mine
Oh how your crystal blue eyes glazed over in guilt
at the lie you’d just uttered, the familiar phrase you’d
told me so many times before,
“I love you.”
But this time it didn’t hold any meaning,
it wasn’t you telling me you loved my voice, my smile,
the last 6 months we’d spent together and every single
tiny thing about me you said you’d loved before.
This time it was just three monotonous words you
whispered back to complement mine, to not upset me.
But you did.
Your arm reluctantly wrapped around my shoulders,
like it always did when we sat together,
but this time it lacked the homely comfort,
the feeling that it belonged right there, my
face a puzzle piece in the crook of your neck.
I felt how your heart stopped speeding up
whenever I smiled at you, how your lips didn’t
tug back into your own familiar grin when I joked.
How you completely pulled your soul away from me,
allowed it to slip from my fingers and wither away into nothing.
And when I cried.
Oh those hot, fearful tears of losing you,
those pathetic drops that trickled down
my pathetic, trembling face, what in my
moment of vulnerable sadness propelled you to lie?
To lie?
Straight to my face, reeling in heartbreak and
aching with a sort of melancholic dread. To the
fracture in my heart knowing your love for me
had finally run out, that I hadn’t been enough to
keep it coming.
What I thought was an endless supply, a love
that would always be there, waiting for me,
turned out to be fake. Maybe it was real at
one point, but it sure wasn't real anymore.
Your arm lifted from my shoulders, and I drew
my knees into my chest, and cried some more.
Because you were right there next to me,
but you were no longer mine.
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This piece is about my first love, and how I felt him pull away from me in the time before he ended things. This piece captures the moment I realized that our relationship was coming to an end, after falsely believing that we'd make it in the long run, that what we had was different from everyone else.