to her, love was a word
it was what you said to get someone to stay
it was a warmth you could take off and throw away
just to make room for another.
to me, love was everything
it was the hope that got me out of bed every day
it was the feeling that rooted beneath my skin, in my bones
it was something I couldn’t tear out if I tried.
and, yes, because of that—
what happened was inevitable.
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