I am art.

Angsty breakup poetry below. Because it’s just as much a part of internal psyche as everything else I post.
_______________________________

You never looked at me the way I wanted you to.
You never looked at me like I was art.
You should look at the woman you’re going to spend forever with like she’s art.
So beautiful you can’t stop staring.
No, you never looked at me like that.

And you never held me tight.
Your never pulled me close to you.
You didn’t press your body next to mine.
You held my hand loosely.
Uncommitted.

And I just never wanted to believe it.
I fought for your verbal commitment.
I fought for a bigger gesture,
Insurance,
Proof,
Certainty,
That you really loved me.

You said all the right things.
You did all the right things.
To a T.
Perfectly.
As if memorized from a script.
Your gestures-
Referenced dating tips.

But when I looked in your eyes- I knew.

You never looked at me like I was magic.
You never touched me like I was sacred.
You never grasped my magnificence.
You never honored my soul.
You never understood my Truth.

You looked at me. You saw my story.
But you never saw me.
And I deserve to be seen.
I deserve to be touched, held, & honored.
I deserve to be worshipped.
I deserve to be studied passionately,
And marveled at wholeheartedly.

Never again will I fall
for man,
that doesn’t see me
as the exquisite masterpiece I am.