Him

8:50 AM

Ah, there he is.

That motherfucker.

The idiot I thought I fell for.

I wasn’t in love with him.

I was in love with the idea of him.

Of what we could be.

Of my imagination.

Not him after all.

Those months I’d cried.

They weren’t for him.

They were for the memories.

That I wished would’ve happened.

But didn’t.

So there he is.

That motherfucker.

That tortured my soul.

But now,

I torture his.