The Photographer

Did you know that it would end like this--
Everything consumed in flames?

I suppose the fire between us
Spread like a disease.

We danced around heartache,
Mistaking pain for passion.

Maybe I liked you broken,
And you loved me being half empty,

So that you could fill me
With the parts of you
Nobody else wanted to see.

But I kept my heart open,
Like a door,

Waiting for you to come back home--
Until I realized
​
That it was all gone,
And that you took
My heart with you.

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