Your hands that used to mean so much to me,
I now can't hold without feeling repulsed.
I see your fingers, that have been inside her,
I see your hands that have held hers,
I see your arms that have pulled her close,
And i ache.
Her hands,
All over you,
Both lost in the passion.
Its digusting.
Revolting.
I can never touch you again,
Feel the same about you again,
Now that she's had you,
Ruined you.
The images wont stop,
You deep inside her,
Making her moan,
Just like you used to with me,
Craving her.
Its not that you did, so much as you desired,
You wanted to make love to her,
You wanted to love her.
'I never want to have sex with anyone else but you'
If this wasn't true,
Why did you have to say it?
Why did you have to lie?
It used to be just me and you,
No one else had experienced our lust,
I want that back,
I want to un-do whats happened.
Things are different now,
And i can't cope with that,
I've never been good with change.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
heavy hitting imagery and a great confession for a last line, well done