Steal From Me

Steal from me

I thought you were giving to me…
Your words of sweetness and feigning interest in who I am.
And then they came to a stop, reversed and backed away.
No more deep tugging at my heart,
No more calls and kisses and hellos.
It’s just suspended, short bursts of tiny moments with you
Like expired luncheon meat, I need to throw out even though I’ve only made one sandwich.
I am sad; you stole from me.
You stole my attention and energy.
You stole my generosity of words, poems and passionate letters I wrote and read to you.
And why did I not protect my heart?
Why did I give to you?
My words are less now.
My confidence shaken by you, ignoring me.

My words are real. They mean something.
You stole those as well.
Oh, thief of beauty and night.
Am I a novelty you have grown tired of?
I am a living, breathing being and uncompromising in my pursuit
of someone who will show up, of a giver and lover.
Who doesn’t steal, but opens his heart,
laughs and smiles at the mention of my name.
I’m wondering if I steal from you, what will I take?
There is nothing of value anymore.
Perhaps instead, I will merely steal away.
You will wake up one day and feel the warm spot I left in bed next to you.

You will find the strand of red hair upon the pillow.
You will smell the fragrance of me upon your sheets and remember
The love you stole last night…
 is now gone.
Victoria Yeary
May 15, 2019

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