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The Morning After You


Unrequited Love's Revenge

Tell me how it feels like you're leaning in to kiss me even when you're on the other side of the room.

And tell me when loving someone by yourself became an embarrassment.

As if your own thoughts and emotions were as apprehensive as your first kiss.

You are not a collection of skin composed of every person who could not love you, so why is that all you can see looking back at you in the mirror?

My mind is not at your disposal.

It is not biodegradable. It will not disintegrate below the dirt and be forgotten about. You cannot take my thoughts as seeds for your garden.

My body is not recyclable.

You cannot use it over and over again. It is not your favorite towel. It is not a bag to carry your groceries home and be tossed to the side for later use.

My spirit is not perishable.

It does not disappear just because your presence enters the atmosphere. You cannot fathom the capabilities of a fully rooted blossom.

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