Not Your Heart

I think back to the moments
you used to tell me what was in your head,
not your heart.
But I was confused,
and mixed up
and saw it
differently.

I thought that you were unlike
any other.
Captivated,
held by
the tangled mess
of words
that you used
to say you loved me.

But I did not see it clear,
that our ideas of love
were conflicting
and you were not
something special,
or a rose among
the weeds,
or the scent of the rain
hitting the pavement in the summer heat.

So I do not understand
why I felt the world
come up underneath me
when you used the same lips
that used to kiss me
to say goodbye.

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