by makenna Kovacs



I tell myself I’m over it,

that I’m over him and his lies.

I tell myself I’m over the time we spent together,

and that I’m over the months we shared,

but those are all lies


I want to be over it all.

I wish I could see him with her and not feel a thing.

Not feel jealousy, or hatred.

Not feel regret or sadness.

But I’d be lying if I told myself I don’t.


If I had the courage I would face him.

I would tell him how he used me,

how I know I was just a toy he played with until he won his prize.

I would tell him I did not care about him,

but I would be lying.


Instead I sit alone and face the truth.

I ponder on the times he made me feel loved,

which I now know was just an act.

He told me I was beautiful, that I was special, and that he wanted me.

He lied.