it’s not what you did it’s that you did it at all
how you dissected me into beautiful fragments
of my soul.
no one else could do it like that
you took the best parts of me
and showed them to myself.
all my self-doubt drowned
at least for a bit
until they resurface
when i’m naked in the bath.
you clutched all of me
with your tight grasp
and morning mantras.
how is it possible
to love like this?
to hate like this?
you will go one day
like everyone before you,
but for now
you can complete
the parts of me
that drowned.
georgeforfun 