Amelia James Poetry

You said you wanted to marry me.
Swore up and down,
You’re it, you’re the one, I could never love anyone like this.
And then you left.

No explanation. No closure.
Just vanished—
like I was nothing but a passing thought,
a mistake you regretted,
a phase you outgrew.

And I?
I was wrecked.
A year of my life, gone.
A heart full of promises, shattered.
I held the weight of us in trembling hands,
while you walked away
like it was never heavy at all.

I told myself you’d regret it.
That one day, you’d look back,
realize what you lost,
feel even an ounce of what you put me through.

But no.
You never looked back.
And worse? You thrived.

Mere months after discarding me,
you found her.
She became the woman I was supposed to be.
She got the vows, the ring,
the forever you swore was mine.

So tell me—
was I just the trial run?
A temporary placeholder,
someone to love until someone better came along?

Does she know?
Does she know you once whispered those same words to me,
that you once held my hand like it was the only thing that mattered?

Or did you rewrite history,
make me out to be a distant mistake,
a name you never even say out loud?

Because I still say yours.
Not with love, not with longing—
but with the sharp bite of a wound
that never had the chance to close.

And maybe that’s what makes us different.

I suffered.
You thrived.

And I hate you for it.

-Amelia James