What They Left Me When I Left Them

I left Fuckface because he was a fuckface. He left me…
… anxious of lovers opening their eyes while they kiss me.
… a ripped, bloody Busta Rhymes t-shirt.
… a Christmas gift that proved he didn’t know me.
… using smaller words that he could understand.
… and took my best friend instead.
… wondering what the hell I ever saw in him.
… a heart so beaten I hated love. For a very long time.

I left The Ginger Fag because it was time. He left me…
… a best friend.
… a thousand laughs.
… guilt.
… bracelets made of love.
… C.
… motorbike rides.
… pirates and dolls.
… creative stir-fry recipes.
… long London walks.
.. reeling from randomness.
… poetry.

I did not leave The Neanderthal. He left me…
… a gas-mask.
… music to which we’ll never fuck.
… a stolen glass.
… a shooting star.
.. songs I cannot listen to.
… speechless.
… angry for making me quiet and awkward.
… newspaper pages.
… another reason to prove that 2010 is my bitch.
… convinced that men only want me when they think they can’t have me.
… an edge; something I’d lost in the fire.
… a desire to devour men and spit them out.
… because he’s an idiot.

I have left other lovers too. They left me with…
… marriage proposals.
… regret.
… an inflated ego.
… notes with premature ‘I love yous’.

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Published by

Alexia

I drink, I laugh, I smoke, I write.

3 thoughts on “What They Left Me When I Left Them”

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