Chin.

I fell out of love with your chin first, sitting in bed on a Friday with a dry throat, metal displays and smirks like sawdust. Saw how you tried to posture, shoulders out, hair like you forgot why we cut it off in the first place. Forgot every struggle we had, over your chin, your thighs, how I thought you were beautiful and you did not. I thought you were beautiful and you did not. I thought you were beautiful and you did not know how to think that. You think you are beautiful but now I know not.  I remember how you skin feels still after all this time.

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