I miss having someone
I could speak to
On an intellectual level,
Who wouldn’t mock me
For getting excited over my passions,
And didn’t shame me
For not knowing as much as you.
I miss being up for hours
Just talking
Because we never ran out of energy
And we never ran out of words.
I miss the butterflies
When your name lit up my phone screen.
The way I felt when you told me
I was everything you needed,
I was beautiful.
I miss sharing our innermost secrets,
Exchanging our writings,
Sharing my most intimate hobbies
With someone whose style was different and exciting.
I miss “I Love You”.
I miss feeling safe when you showed me warmth.
maybe that’s why It hurts
When I think about how
I can never go back.
Because of how dramatically you changed.
You didn’t have to say “you’re not good enough”
You were bold enough to show me “You’re not good enough”!
You changed,
And it was so sudden and so dramatic
that it knocked the wind right out of me.
This style so different that it scared me,
Mental torture is not what I call a hobby.
Shaming me is not the intellectual conversation
I was looking for.
I’m out of energy,
You need space.
Butterflies and words
Fluttered away without a trace.
I no longer feel safe and warm,
But shards of ice cutting into my heart
Every time you claim to love me.
I was your beautiful little secret
Now you make me feel ugly with gentle nudges.
Not beautiful enough to keep your affection.
You didn’t have to say “you’re not good enough”
You were bold enough to show me “you’re not good enough”
And I was dumb enough to believe it.