over.

if you haven’t noticed
how my feelings have changed
towards you lately,
let me spell it out, make it crystal,
so there can be no mistake.
I no longer love you.

stop talking to me
stop following me
stop projecting your crazy fantasies
of a future that never even
came close to existing
except in your imagination
onto me.
I never wanted that in the first place.
I wanted the one thing
you couldn’t give me:
yourself, in the present.

after all this, I think
you never really cared about me
the way I cared about you.
I at least tried to see you
for who you were.
I wanted to know the real you
as much as you would let me,
which wasn’t very much.

you saw only
what you wanted to believe;
you put your fucked-up shit on me
tried to make me think
that the sky wasn’t blue
up was down
black was white
love was hate
and hate was love.
you are a Minister of Disinformation
and I’m turning off
your propaganda channel,
ripping up the leaflets,
tuning my radio to another, better station.

please feel free to move on
to the next girl
who doesn’t know yet
how unbelievably awful you are.

Published by

R. Brookes McKenzie

what fresh hell is this

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