Was that your voice? Or was that me?


United States

It's in the silence that the biggest problems appear,
the quiet, the calm
it's so unclear.
Not sincere. Not the truth
But not a lie too.


I don't know. What's left to do?
There was once an us
now it's a me and a you.


Part of me is relieved
because there's so many things unseen.
I'm just glad I don't have to retrieve.
Or sit trying to remedy.


But a bigger part feels misused. 
Thinks of all the things I did to stay true.
Thinks of all the things I wanted to mean to you.
It was too good to be true.


This is a stupid poem
It lacks substance just like what we had
there was no backbone
just a mash of feelings and mad
is how I feel. Conflicted because
you said "ilu" but obviously you didn't mean it


And maybe I didn't either. 
Or maybe it wasn't the same
Maybe it was all tricks and mirrors in my brain.
I don't want to go back then if that's what it is.
I'd rather stay with myself alone to get through this.

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