Unbothered

I used to wish she would cry every night,

Watching my life blossom.

That every time a certain word was said she would think of me,

And regret her choices,

Knowing she had lost an angel.

But now

I tread in the water carelessly,

Unaware of her existence.

I live my life aimlessly,

Not attempting to paint the ultimate portrait of happiness despite her.

I don’t care

if she laughs again like I used to make her

if she sees roses and doesn’t think of me

if she needs sage advice and dials a friend’s number

if she feels sadness and is comforted by a warm new touch.

I gave her all the love I knew in the world,

And she cast me away for not being her version of perfect.

I had written paragraphs of explanations,

Dragged knives through my heart,

Apologized for mistakes made long before my birth,

Woven stories of praise for her selfish cruel soul,

Yet nothing was ever enough.

I was not the world to her,

Though she was to me.

And so

I simply do not care.