He told me love was invisible
but his gestures would make me see it.
The myriad of attention showered on me
was refreshing… if not a bit much.
But it’s easy to drown in words coated in honey
when passion plays in the deep end.
His random trinkets symbolized
his thoughts of me in my absence
and decorated my apartment like sweet
subliminal messages delivered to my heart.
Until love finally manifested before me—
it looked like roses and faded navy sheets;
a visual of the scent we made together
which my heart mistook as oxygen.
I never would have stayed had I known
I was breathing artificial air.
Because after the journey to the pinnacle,
there was no artful fall into comfort.
He started to speak in a silver tongue—
weaponizing my affections,
and gaslighting me into meltdowns;
leaving me to question my reality
as strands of optical illusions.
And then she called me.
She said he told her love was invisible
and his gestures would make her see it.