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I wasn’t slapped in the face
but the shock made me feel like I was

I wasn’t kicked
although pain was present in my stomach

you didn’t choke me
but when you cross my mind I get a lump in my throat

you didn’t stab me in the chest
yet somehow my heart was broken.

You never laid a finger on me
yet I still felt abused

Where do you hold this secret power?
the Olympian facade to rigid to break through?

When the weight of it is too heavy,
do you drag it behind you?

How did you acquire it?
what was its cost?

A few broken promises?
Or did you exchange it for what you lost?

Do they all weight the same?
Do you collect them in a bag or chess,

returning to visit them do you understand the pain?
Do those memories excite you?

Do you feel some kind of shame?
If you had the chance to do it again

would you do it just the same?
These questions without answers

sometimes they trap me in my thoughts.
forcing me to relive the torture

of loving someone who was never taught
how to return the love like . . .

I didn’t ask for anything spectacular or anything you couldn’t achieve.
I just expected you to be exactly who you said you would be.