You Wear My Disillusionment Well

To think, that at one time I

sought you out;

considered your sentiments;

enjoyed your smile,

your humor,

your inane

configurations of

ideas.

A testament to

naivete.

Mine, not yours.

How the winds

blow cold in my face,

awakening my favor

of you,

and turning it to

sweet indifference.

The disappointment is mine

as well.

You promised me a great

potential.

You lured me to believe in

your possibilities.

Invested,

I was.

The questions that

remain

are:  to whom did you

sell yourself to?

And why were you

for sale at all?

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