I’d have to give a damn about you
to care about me.
No such luck for either one of us to trust
the web you’re trapped in,
stumbling over sweet booze bottles
and tangled in your auburn hair.
In case you haven’t noticed,
I’m shortchanged of confidence
in what I see of the person in me.
My will to fall into
your delusion is up for grabs.
The mirror reflecting the change
found in me doesn’t tell the entire story.
The mascara streaming your cheeks
defines the lines under your eyes,
lines you’ve had for some time.
I’m over it, and I’m over what felt right.
I’m over me being the shadow of me.
I’m done pretending
I don’t see you the way you do.
(© 2022 AC)