I think of the time
when you will realise yours were not the first lips to kiss mine.

I can see the betrayal in your eyes
when you see a photo that captured love marks on my neck that you did not leave, long since gone.

I can hear the hoarse grating of your yells
when you know yours was not the only name I’ve moaned, the abuse I will receive for accepting someone else’s love, once.

I feel the sting of a slap
when you find letters, carefully set away, that tell of caresses and close thoughts. When I let slip a moment from my past so tightly woven away that you had thought it never happened.

I dream of your coldness
when keeps me from your side, because many times, long ago, I was warm to others.

I wait for the day, hoping it will never come;

when you see I was as happy with them as with you.

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