Saying your name felt like stepping on the pedal.
I couldn’t move forward without leaving you behind.
You acted like a poison in my stomach, I thought we
Laughed and nothing else mattered, but our memories
Were meant to have an end, be a catalyst for the evocation
Of new pages. I had a different voice in your presence.
My body moved and spoke in unnatural ways that were
Never truly mine.
I remember the fear of your face.
The moment your mouth opens.
Your voice erupts, I’ve seen it in
Your body before the words exited.
I wish I could’ve buried my idealisations
Then and there.
I can still see you running away,
A petty child, weeping and mumbling,
To me, you were never worth it, in the end,
Everything I said and did to make you feel
Better about yourself. You had always been empty
And needed others to attend the spectacle of your
Fate.
There were sparkles of potential beauty,
But you could never hold on to them,
You abused them to project a false image of yourself
And celebrated the character traits and actions that
Made me run away and look back in horror.
Croque-Melpomene 