Fake

I hold this pillow like it's you. I clench this fabric and pretend it's your pores. I begin to slip into false reality, and your contour is in my grasp again.

It is what it is

I take it so personal and so harshly because I hate the extinction of affection and affinity. Even when we go from each other's space, I feel a dismemberment.

The change

Something changed.

I could tell by the way you looked at me. If you don't want to love me, don't look through my soul.