Not jealously.

Not exactly.

More like hurt.
The insensitivity
of it all.

Like you said it
because you knew
it would hurt me.
Pinch my fragile worth,
and you like to hurt me,
I think.

I wonder
if you’re cruel
just to see how much
I’ll endure.

And I can’t help
but suffer on,
agony leaking
from my dreams
of you with her
or others
while you imagine
how it will be
to tell me,
to whisper
in my ear
how they felt inside.


FYI: In case you might be worried, I am NOT in an abusive relationship. I realized it might seem this way when reflecting on this piece, so I thought I’d mention it. I like the poem how it is, so I’m choosing to add this message instead of water down my work for worry of your reaction. Hope you like it anyway. 🙂




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