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.