Sunday morning. This was once my favorite time of week, the lazy Sunday morning that would unfold into whatever we desired. It was the magic morning, it was the morning I could almost count on rolling into your arms and then you rolling on top of me. But now? Forget about it. 

I thought you were my kindred spirit. I thought you were my moon and stars. I 
thought you meant it when you said you’d always love me and never leave me,
but that was so stupid of me to believe. I thought you were my skin twin, I 
thought you were the other pea in my pod, I thought you were the absolute
love of my life. But now? Forget about it. 

My complicity in your hurting me ends here. I thought we wanted a future
together, but you want to know yourself alone. So you will know “alone”. 
Once I may have thought this is just another phase, this is just another 
one of those times we say things but don’t mean them. However. 
Yesterday you crossed the line when you took away all the hope I
had for our future. I thought I’d be your wife. But now? Forget about it.

Today’s three poem prompt words were: forget about it, kindred, and the line.

_{Photo by Tatiana Zhukova on Unsplash}