“Last Love,” Carlyn Davis, ’24

i truly can’t remember the last time your love wrapped it’s arms around me with endearment

or the last moment when you looked into my eyes and sought out my soul 

the only thing i see now when you look into mine is you, staring right back at your own reflection 

it kills me to know that you never desired anything else but yourself

you covered me in tattoos suffocating almost trying to eat away at my dying heart

you nearly did

i had not enough strength nor courage to break away but the more i craved you, wanted you

the less you did the same for me

that is where we don’t see each other

i saw you and you sought out another person to ruin

my warmth was the same to you as another monday

where i saw change you… you felt the means to stay stagnant

a change in myself, a difference in how i loved, how i wanted to be loved…

it was all the same to someone who couldn’t see me

conceited? not something i haven’t come across before.

narcissistic? oh my, an old friend!

a downright asshole? nothing like it.

all these things and i turned a blind eye, i wanted to be loved. 

i needed to be loved, 

i turned into a whore just for the concealment that maybe,

just maybe it was happening.

call me what you please, but i wanted this, i… i needed this.

it would’ve repaired any of the leaking holes in my heart in an instant, with no extra cost to you

i am worth something, and for godsakes, i thought you saw it too

but that reflection, 

the reflection in your eyes,

it was like a mirror

staring right back at you.