You Never Loved Me

Aligned across too much table
the day after, and you eclipse the
margarine, normally glowing with
morning rays at breakfast time.

You didn’t just hurt me, you lied
and saturated my deepest woes.
My eyes are dwarf stars and I struggle
to keep my chin parallel to the rug.

The embarrassment of the lack
of food might have been a priority, but
I barely feel the sting of shame which
is all but muted by your dead stare.

How could the landscape of flesh
possibly conceive such cold recesses?
The swan’s face is hidden beneath the
waters we once floated upon.

Now I look up as I am sinking and see
such a thing of beauty watching me slide
to the lowest my heart has ever resided.
What sting does the edge hold up to betrayal?

Your heart is free of my white fingers
and I can watch as a morning sun bears
you into a new day for us both.
So many teeth litter the curbs.

In my solitude I peer inwards at the frail
creature who’s bones protrude from flesh.
He’s all I can manifest of what I experience
from the shock of learning; you never loved me.