Breadcrumb #577
VENUS DAVIS
today
I saw you
from behind the counter at work.
Three years ago, I would’ve gone through
your tumblr and sent you a message begging
for attention, for love, for a reason as to why you left.
I would’ve taken ibuprofen and threatened to
murder my stomach lining until you so much as looked at me.
today
I saw you
and was reminded of who I used to be:
Some little kid who needed a
therapist more than a lover.
A child who needed to drop out of college
and check into their emotions.
Someone who needed to put down the bottle of
ibuprofen and pick up a bottle of Wellbutrin.
today
I saw you
and I was happy that you didn’t see me.
I was happy that you didn’t look my way.
When you left me, I thought that I had lost my
only chance at being complete.
A half forever in search of their unrequited whole.
Someone who called you a monster from
behind a foggy mirror.
today
I saw you
and I am so glad that three years ago,
you left me.