Left Left Right Left
I swipe, hoping to find it
A Disney story IRL
Alas, I've reached the pit of Hell
Countless matches and open chats
Oh the deep regret one has
A drink, a coffee, a dinner out
Charming, funny or a lout?
Days, months and a year has passed
Too many swipes, none of 'em last
Incredible *** one odd out
But then I'm back on the look out
Left Left Right Left
**** Disney and **** this
I'm on my own, I have a hand
*** with myself is just as grand
Jul 11, 2018
Jul 11, 2018 at 3:08 PM UTC
It's been two months since I last heard from you.
I hate this new age of virtual communication.
We weren't dating but we were
Strangers who knew everything about the other.
I have your words typed and spoken.
Your history of abuse, and mine,
Made the strongest cocktail.
It was my mistake,
The reason it failed
I let you in to explore the real me, Masks aside when
You held me close and tore me open,
All flesh and blood
You left me with words unspoken
A mistake I'll never make again.
Your love and interest in me
has been replaced.
You knew me;
No one knew me like you did
You told me I could be loved;
You gave me a taste
I now believe the lies my brain tells me
I am unlovable, it's true, I fear
Despite the times you said I wasn't
Because if it weren't true,
you'd still be here
I lay here thinking about my life and what I've become
I have no one. I had you.
I mean nothing to you.
Message received
I hear you, loud and clear
Loud and clear
I will be nothing but a bitter memory soon enough
My diagnosis and the disorders have taken a back seat
I've always wanted to fall in love; But when I did, I didn't realize Sometimes love is a one way street
You've left and now I see no meaning
If there was a God, I suppose he'd know this feeling
Does anything matter?
When we were, everything was depressing but you made it seem better.
Now we aren't, and the depression seems like its ***** old menacing self.
My identity is mine,
Yours is yours
Yet I feel like some part of me has died and has now begun to rot.
Soon the rotten smell will go away.
The memories will fade;
Bones will turn to mud.
When we cease to exist,
It will be as it was;
As if it never were.
Just as you incessantly insist.
If I could muster the courage to ask you for a second chance, I would.
But I used what was left of it;
Bleeding in the tub, where I lay
Eyes open, speakers moaning
- Unlovable by The Smiths
May 24, 2018
May 24, 2018 at 10:32 AM UTC