From Falling
You didn’t love me. You loved the idea of me.
You loved how I contrasted you, you loved having
arms to hold you at night, legs to spread,
a shoulder to cry on, someone
who will always justify your destructive deeds.
The things you allegedly loved about me
didn’t make me your loved one, or the one
that can have faith in you and feel safe with you.
They made me replaceable.