To the lost boy

He approaches me with anger once again

but this time I don’t back away.

I stand my ground, no longer fearful of him

I choose to listen.

She chose you over me,

anger thinly veils the absolute desperation.

I can see that now.

She didn’t, I respond and quickly follow up,

but I know it must feel that way.

The rage I see bubbling up suppresses,

ever so slightly,

as to not spill over.

We played out this scene before,

a hundred times, a thousand,

and yet this time I reveal the truth,

When she lost you, she lost herself.

And we never saw her again.

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