Irony

Irony,

like telling someone

you love them,

only to break their heart.

Or the taste

of blood

in my mouth.

My mind races

like you said

yours did last night,

except it's not with nerves.

It's with every apparent lie,

every string you dangled

me from,

and every rope

you just brought me to

the end

of.

How did we get here?

We went from falling asleep

together

and waking up with sore cheeks

from smiling through our sleep

to staining my pillow with tears.

I will wake up with sore cheeks

but there won't be any

smiles.

They say that distance

makes the heart

grow fonder.

Or maybe it's absence,

because right now you are

and maybe you

always

will be

from now on.

So tell me again that you love

me

and turn around and walk

away.

I knew from the beginning

you would change

my life,

but I never thought

you would set me back

so far.

So far.

You gave me more

than I thought I

deserved

and more

than I expected,

but you think it's

not enough?

You

have always,

will always,

would always

be

enough

for me.

But you don't want that anymore.

A one eighty

about face.

Do you still love

me?

Did you ever?