He trails kisses along my neck each night,
He whispers to me that as long as he's around, I should never feel fright.
He holds my hand at any location,
little does he know, he's my favorite place.
He's the first to tell me he loves me when he drops me off at my door,
Little did I know, behind my back, he was treating me poor.
He whispers that he'd die for me.
When I was gone, another girl lied in his bed.
She didn't have my name, my eyes or my skin.
But she gave him physical pleasure.
My bad for feeding our relationship with emotion, when he was seeking something more physical.
I didn't know that the man I called my true love, matter of fact, did not love me at all.
Tears rolled down my cheeks when I looked through his phone.
He swallowed, avoiding eye contact, for he knew his hands were stained with someone else's scent.
A crime he commit, never once thinking of me.
So, do not speak to me of flowers and prose,
My man was one of those, and still at the end of the day, I wasn't the one he chose.
12/21/22