Like the back of my hand

I knew you, I’d boast,
like the back of my hand;
never realizing
that I spent little time
actually getting to know it.

I knew you, for years,
like a member of the family.
But I’d had no family
for most of my life.

I knew you’d never leave me.
When I came home
and all your things had gone
I knew there’d be a simple explanation.

And there was:
you’d left me
even though I’d always known
we would be together forever

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