The Small Things

Original Poetry

I noticed the small things.
The way he stopped looking at me with a glint of mischief in his eyes.
He didn’t touch me like he used to.
I wasn’t a topic of intense conversation with his boys.
His family got used to not having me around anymore.
My shirts ended up in my house as opposed to his wardrobe.
He didn’t like kissing me.
He stopped spending as much time with me.
He spent more time with others.
I lost him before I could even register what was happening.

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