Detached (Or Trying to Be)

I’m numb—
become phlegmatic—
I’m insignificant,
Your flavor of the week;
My paltry existence
Comatose to your apathetic feelings.
You don’t miss me.
I’m empty.

My animosity won’t diminish,
Yet, neither will my infatuation.

I’m torn.
Something is missing.

I never get the happy ending;
There’s no such thing as a fairy tale.

I just need someone to convince me
I’m misguided,
with distorted dreams and
reckless realities.

It just can’t be you.


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