Pisces in the Rearview

You swim in shadows, Pisces,

draped in borrowed feelings

and echoes of a past

that never belonged to you.

You mistake obsession for depth,

stalking ghosts of “what could have been,”

while the world spins elsewhere,

and I—unbound—move on.

Your tides of anger rise

because you cannot anchor yourself.

You are not missed.

You are a warning,

a ripple in a pond

I left long ago.

No apology, no confession,

no manipulation can alter this:

I am not yours,

I am not waiting,

and the world—beyond your pond—

does not bend for your spite.

So swim your storms, Pisces.

I’ll stay on land,

laughing quietly at the water

you will never cross.