Between Bruises & Blooms

Later,

you told them
you just wanted
to get your dick wet.

Funny.

Because that isn't
what the songs said.

The songs said
stay.

The songs said
tomorrow.

The songs said
you calmed
my nightmares.

The songs said
children
growing older
while we sat
beside each other.

The playlist
still carries
my name.

So which story
was true?

The one
you whispered
into microphones

or the one
you performed
for your friends
after everything
fell apart?

Maybe neither.

Maybe both.

Maybe reducing me
to sex
was easier
than admitting
you once loved
a woman
you later hurt.

Maybe it was easier
to make me
a body

than explain
why you wrote
a future
around me.

But I remember.

I was there.

And you don't
get to rewrite
the entire relationship
into something
cheap

just because
the truth
makes you look
worse.

It wasn't
just sex.

And saying it was

doesn't make
what you destroyed

any smaller.