You

It’s you.
Always will be.
The one who kills
me every time you leave.
The one who holds my
very existence in the palm of your hand.

It can’t be anyone else.
Ever.
It pains me to know that
someone so young
can feel like this.
So lost, unloved.

It’s not your fault.
How could it be?
Any man with sense would
love you the way I do.

If they only knew
Who you were.