There was a time when you
were enough. You were built
to love and you owned me.
When the honey dried,
when the season
changed, there was a time
when the idea of you was enough.
Something to get me through
the day, like a kind word
from a stranger; a moment
of accidental contact. A hand.
A stray hair. The small comforts
could only replace so much.
I wasn't made to love you,
but my wires got crossed.
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