The One That Got Away

The first thing people notice are his eyes.

They glitter like stars through unbroken glass,

But when I look into them, they shine

out of reach as they look down at the filth

that I am below his feet.

When he smiles, he outshines the sun.

But his words are as sharp as they are cold

with every insult he throws,

biting like the freezing wind in a storm.

And though his voice is a song,

it pierces my heart.

Slowly.

Rhythmically.

My every imperfection, insecurity, and flaw

rolls off his languid tongue like a song.

His arms were once a castle,

sturdy and strong,

but now they’re a prison I want to escape.

He used to be so gentle

when he held me close at night.

He used to be so warm

when his voice soothed my troubles.

There’s so many things used to be . . .

But now he no longer is.

He’s a shadow, a shell, a mask

of the man I carelessly offered my heart to.

I want it back.

I shed my doubts and insecurities

and put my armor on. We go to war

and our words are our weapons

and our fond memories are our shields.

And when I watch him leave,

I proudly hold my head high.

He is a masterpiece for the world to admire:

The one who got away, they’ll say.

But to me, he is someone I happily let go,

my own Dorian Gray.

 

**Find the featured image here.

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