In a room crowded with people
you searched for my eyes only
and you found them
and you stared at the colour
which most of the times is green
you approached me
and the first thing you said
was "I am fascinated by your eyes"
of course I was also fascinated by your guts
so I fell hard for you
little by little every day
and then all at once;
you, on the other hand, were
only fascinated by the depth of my eyes
the shape of my lips
the symmetry of my hips
and the delicacy of my hands
and those small brown dots
that traced all my upper body
I can't deny it- I was lucky enough
to be with you
I didn't have to look in the mirror
to know I was beautiful
you told me so every single day
before I could complain
about how bad my hair was
or how I hated my enlarged nose
but honey, it wasn't long
before I realised you didn't actually love me
fascination later became infatuation
but never love;
I was your muse, the constant inspiration
that you needed to continue feeling like
a God-like artist the world wasn't ready for yet
that's what you acted like
and you treated me like I was your precious
treasure trove
which you kept hidden from the rest of the world
lest someone else discovered the secret
behind your indisputable success
and stole it from you,
putting an end to your fame and glory;
I stopped feeling beautiful
I began complaining about the mirror
I blamed it on you, you blamed my jealousy
but I wasn't being jealous of your success
I was jealous of your ignorance
I was jealous of your insensitivity
you didn't care about anything or anyone-
including me- so nothing could ever hurt you
until I left you for good
went to seek another artist
who would search for my kindness instead and
would be fascinated by my sense of humour
and would get lost in the depths of my heart;
I did not find another like you,
I found someone better than you
who touches me like I have never been touched before
and explores parts of me that you have never been in
now when I look in the mirror, I mostly wonder
where you are and who is your new muse
and if you have the guts to love her
then right after that thought
I feel pity for you
because I came to the conclusion
that, since you can't love anyone,
you must be unable to love yourself.
