I loved you, I say. Hopeful that my side will win, my version, my perspective, my truth that I keep alone in shoe boxes in my room, that I have written in diaries and across board games, that I have secretly gossiped about with strangers.
I know he says, as if I am only water running across his face. I know.
I realize in that moment, what hate is.
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It is strange the way insignificant moments play out in our lives, how they coach us and scare us and create our journey.
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Thankyou for reading my poetry. I have written a few other poetic books about Carl Jung, Nietzsche and Freud to describe my perception of reality. Look for them on amazon. Otherwise have a great day.