Poetry

Twist the Knife

1.

In your wake
there is nothing left of me.
I am reduced by a simple truth
you didn’t mean to tell.
I cry quietly, alone and wonder how it came to this,
but I know, I know.

There is nothing to prove and yet the arrogance suits you.

2.

Please let me not care long enough
whether or not I meet him
to meet the man who will make me forget

how.
much.
this.
hurts.

and be willing to do it all again.

For real this time.

And let me find the strength to remember:
I am beautiful
and
(if you pay attention)
my walk is like a song
and my smile is awkward
but just right for my face

and

I am worth believing in.

2.7.12

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