Here I string words to mend,
and to articulate the hurt
that you / I caused
(because I am equally as culpable).
Admittedly there are things I do not deserve,
but I saw a future with you, which I thought I did.
We built palaces from empty.
I hoped for them and made you powerful
until you reeked of god in my eyes.
And so it must be my karmic consequence
to lose you in this way;
it is blasphemous
but He must favour you,
to change you into the more indifferent of us two.
The timing, the fit, each click
we took as signs of eventual togetherness
I was gold dust, you said, hard to find but now my faith is on a precipice
while you make up your mind.
Should I subscribe to the all-encompassing excuse
that everything happens for a reason?
Darling you too are gold dust
lost quickly by the changing winds of circumstance.
So I compare this
to when you said I hit a nerve in you,
my whole being.
And this is what I found out:
what love does to the heart,
children should not know about.
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