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I'm (not) Angry
No, I’m not angry.
I’m not angry that you broke my heart,
or that you’re already with someone else.
I’m not angry that you’ve moved on already,
even after everything we shared together.
I’m not angry that you completely disregarded
that you took all of my firsts.
You were my first real relationship
My first kiss
My first love.
And you threw me away like I was worth nothing more
than the garbage that resides under your fancy marble
The past year with you can be defined by hands
softly brushing against each other,
sneaky glances just to look at the other person’s face,
and lazy summer days spent laying on your chest,
memorizing the rhythm of your heartbeat.
Even after all those moments,
None of it matters, because I never mattered to
Don’t worry though, I’m not angry with you.
Who do you think you are, manipulating me
and taking my spirit away
and having the audacity to call it love?
Every time I see you laughing with your friends,
I can’t help but wonder if they know what you really are:
A manipulative, despicable human being with no regards
for anyone else’s feelings.
Sometimes I find myself missing you and wishing
that things had turned out differently.
But now I realize I miss the person you used to be.
Not who you became.
I miss the person who could never stop smiling around me.
I miss the gentle forehead kisses and the soft
“I love you”s
whispered against your lips.
I miss the boy who used to look at me like I was his whole world.
I don’t miss the person who began to see me as a burden.
I don’t miss the person who chose popularity over someone
who loved them.
I don’t miss the person who acted disgusted when I asked to kiss them.
So no, I’m not angry that you decided I wasn’t good enough for you.
I’m angry that I was blind enough to believe you loved me.