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i

do you hate me?
or am i just hard to look at?
you made things this way
suddenly
turning away
acting as if i was nothing,
we were nothing

we were not nothing.
i am not nothing.
i am galaxies half alive
burning despite having trouble breathing

i am soft touches
and loud voices
i am silence
and a cacophony of pleasant noises

i am morning breakfasts
and karaoke music
i am resonant laughter
and summer picnics

i am a contradiction
bursting with life and color
but overflowing with sadness
that comes with living,
with having gotten older

and we?
we were soft
and we were quiet
a museum of hurt
and our collective memories

but maybe that was just me
because you?
you saw who i was
and knew what i was going through
and it was you
who left before reaching the main exhibit
i barely had time
with which,
to catch my breath
before you quit and walked away

so why is it that
now,
i can calmly look at you
while you can only turn your back to me
and continue along
as if
i was nothing to you?

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