you say, I am too much for you,
similar to never being enough.

I find myself staggered between
the tipping of the scale.
balance is the illusion that
gravity has created to pull you
closer to me.

why must I lose parts of myself
for you to finally see me?

You ripped my heart out
With your bare hands
And threw it on the ground
As if it was nothing

Thinking about
You
So late
But so earily
In the day
Is deadly
To my heart
And soul

By the next year
We will be apart
More than ever
By the next year
You wont know me
By the next year
You wont want
To see me
Bu the next year
Ill just be
Another
Memory