for R.

There's this silly little game we play,

when I look at you, you look away,

long enough for me to drop my gaze,

you wait until I turn my head

to turn yours in my direction.

If I'm quick enough to glance back,

catching you in the act,

you roll your eyes in a vacant stare,

subtle glare,

as if I'm just another part of the room

your vision is passing through.

It was only a month ago we could communicate

paragraphs without having to say 


We completed each other's sentences

instead of speaking in sentence fragments

like we do today.

We've known each other as long as

we've known our own names,

it seems such a shame

that things have gone this way.

I picked you to take with me on an adventure over seas

because you were the one I trusted to be

honest, and true, and love the journey

as much as I loved you.

I didn't know someone I cared about so much

was capable of ripping my soul to shreds,

treading on my dreams,

making me feel like I was a failure at being anything.

But in the end, I miss you.

I miss listening to you breathe at night,

after you finished berating my personality,

you'd sleep and I'd lie awake

going over the words you'd say.

Now, one month later,

still ringing harsh in my ears:

"You're selfish, you're stupid

you don't deserve to be here."

Now, playing the game of looking up

and looking away,

I don't know what hurts me more:

the fact that you hate me,

or that I don't love you 


The End

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