He held hands and when he ripped away
Felt it unfair that he only
came away with his half
Complained when both my eyes
Were a mirror too small
to see his whole self inside
Shoving his fingers in the cracks
of my tear ducts trying to open my gaze
see more of himself
Complaining that my tears were wet
My pain was hard to hear
Disappointed that this was the affect
That I was not blessed
That I did not thank him for his time
That my song was not his side of the story