I Don't Even Smoke
I must confess that I have lived
there is proof in the soot rimmed candles I have burned
my lacy delicates hung over the shower
cigarettes I don't smoke left in my car
well-loved loafers boasting the imprint of my small feet
I have been loved, and sometimes have loved in return
my long brown hairs left behind on lovers' pillowcases
flowers slowly rotting in a ceramic vase
tear stained sweater sleeves
I have been someone's everything and then their nothing
and I have taken all of my love back and walked away into the night
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