I had always been the pliable one...
the one that always asked herself,
“How much could you use me until you were done?”
I resigned to bed sheets: comatose...
the idea of loneliness sinking in...
wondering if you were thinking of me.

I wasn’t always flexible, but always willing to
bend and break on your behalf
until you decided to flee the coup.
Because that’s when I finally bucked up
and stood my shaky ground
and realized you were actually the lonely one.