You broke my heart,
and the worst part is,
you didn’t even mean to.
You’re a good person;
I can’t put a target on your back.
And do I wish
you loved me enough to stay?
Of course, but I remind myself
it was never love.
It could never be love.
I imagine there will be
someone in the future
who will listen how you did,
or perhaps, better.
Who will offer safety
in tight spaces,
who will make me feel okay
to remain,
to not have to change
too much of myself.
Will I always compare
everything and everyone
to you?
