there are things that you do not know (i assume);
like the song i was listening to when you first told me that you liked me back,
or the show i was watching the first time i realised i wanted to wake up next to you.
like the first poem that i wrote for you long before you loved me,
or the way i have a screenshot of the first time you ever called me.
there are things that you do not know,
like how i still have all your poems,
and a folder with our pictures and screenshots of texts
that remind me of comfort and love.
there are things that you do not know,
like how i have a gaping hole in place of my heart
and a void that chants your name like a prayer
all because i never learnt how not to love you.
do you see how i do not write with elegance anymore? i have lost the need to find beauty in my verses. there is no beauty that can be found when it does not come from within. and there is no beauty in a heart filled with bitterness.
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