I want to know
is it okay
to still feel this way
after all these years?
When I let go of your hand
at the terminal
oh I knew
that would be the last time
I ever saw you.
And it’s like part of me has died,
like you took the good parts of me with you
when you left
and left me with the messy bits,
the broken bits,
the parts-that-nobody-wants bits.
Oh it still hurts
because you cut me so deep
to parts of me I thought were healed
parts of me I thought were untouchable.
You promised me the world with one hand
and snatched the earth from under my feet
with the other
the very next morning.
And I’m not crying because you broke my heart,
I’ve cried myself dry over that.
I’m crying because
when I left you at the airport
I knew I was leaving part of me too.
I’m crying because
your actions and your words
shrunk me down to a half
no, a third
of who I used to be.
You walked all over me
and got away scott free.
So when I grieve now
It’s no longer for you
but for the old me
rest in peace.
stormsinteacups 