untitled sonnet

Your broken words of glass cut through me
Teaching thoughtlessness and I would listen
Quietly rather than provoke your leave
I sustained these cuts without resistance

At times my weak voice pounded from my chest
An aching, muffled hope could still be heard
And on occasion I would reminisce
Of naïve and youthful days once deserved

One day you and your words just walked away
The cuts became a raised and tightened scar
I waited, watched for you, I felt betrayed
Unsure of how I’d find myself once more

I hear you’re not sorry for the pain you caused
Well I don’t miss you or your worthless words

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