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I was five the first time I saw
someone fall out of love.
I watched as my dad walked
out on my mother and I watched
as the pain of heartache ate away
until there wasn’t anything left.


I was six the first time I saw
how fast people can move on.
I met my stepmother and though
she was incredibly lovely,
I didn’t see much love in her
eyes when she looked at him.
I watched my mother’s retreating
back and I realized that not even
love was strong enough to
make someone stay.


I was eight when I learned that
love was nothing more than a trap.
I looked into my baby sister’s eyes
and I knew that it would go to hell.


I was sixteen when I realized just
how bad a forced love was.
I heard the screams in the dead
of the night and the wishes
that they had never met.


I was eighteen when I learned that
you could have your cake and
eat it too as long as no one found out.
I watched as my dad walked out
again, but this time, his spirit left
while his body stayed behind.


I am twenty-one and now I know
that a life of not being taught how
to properly fall in love had disabled
me to feel like I deserve it.
I saw how love destroyed three
people and now I fear that
it may destroy me too.


Excellent piece. I felt like I was there with you, saw parallels in classic stories with a personal touch. No particular line or phrase caught me as out of place - all in all, solid start to finish.

My only thought might be to use white space to break up the ages/sections. The blend-together makes it easy to skip over the transitions.

Well done, well seen, and write on!

- Hawk