Pandemonium

He sits so close,

but the silence turns the inches into miles and  

every slight noise causes an avalanche in my chest  

as I wait for him to say something.

Anxious Reticence. 

I have changed so much. 

Everything I am I molded around his wants and 

Around his needs, but he's tired of loving himself. 

and I'm tired of not loving me. 

We're just skipping,

A broken record I keep trying to play again,

Ignoring the scratches and pretending not to hear,

our mistakes on an infinite loop.

Pandemonium.

"I don't love you,"

The four words I never imagined I'd say to him

Four words that drip from my mouth like bittersweet honey.

Four words I finally say out loud. 

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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