A poem I wrote

You hurt me,
and more than once,
not with a fist
or even a word,
but with your disregard,
treating me as without need or desire,
as a backdrop to your life,
as an object for your use,
as a cipher, a prop, a toy,

And I put up with it,
as if I deserved no more,
as if I could do no better,
as if love is enough without respect,

But it’s not,
and never has been,
and never will be.

However long it takes to learn the lesson
is time well spent
for a future
without you.

© bardofupton 2018

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