Do they write poetry about me too?
My hearts breaking.
And I will never be the same again.
I'll never breathe quite so deep again.
But if it's any consolation.
It was a privilege,
Loving you anyway.
It wasn't supposed to hurt
I kept you on a string
Like a kite,
So far away from me.
Like tides of ocean seas
There was no "you and me".
So it wouldn't hurt.
Two years I've played this game
But your name on my tongue still sounds the same
My heart an animal I can't quite tame
But I always kept you an arms length away
So it wouldn't hurt.
Because I knew all along you were going away
But when the day came
I knew you'd be getting on that plane
I never really though about the day
That id see you walk away
With tears streamed down my face
A burden I was never meant to take
Because I wasn't supposed to love you
Because it wasn't supposed to hurt
Did your mother ever tell you
When you were young,
To scream fire
Instead of ****
Because it would get a better result?
It is the things I write poems about
The injustices done to children
Subtleties that teach us our worth
Sexism at its root.
A not-so-coincidental turn of events
I've been screaming ****** assault.
Not quite ****,
But it tastes just about as bitter
Leaving my lips
Bile bubbling in my throat.
You were right.
Because *nobody is listening.
Have you ever felt
Like you live off sunlight?
******* in the tiny photons?
Filling up every darkened corner?
Making up for all the holes?
The sun, it's blinding.
I mean, what a distraction!
There's cracks in my heart.
That even I can't see.
I'm missing some bits of me.
Lost along the way,
But it's okay,
I've found the sunlight!
And it's so bright,
it makes it hard for me to remember.
What I was missing,
In the first place..
Oh, I remember!
I was missing sunlight.
That must be it.
And nothing more..
You're the one I never got over.
But it's been years,
and I'll never tell you that.
I still leave your stations on my pandora.
You'll never know
the little pieces
that I refuse to let go.
I live inside these walls.
Everywhere I go.
I've tried to make it home.
I've tried to let it go.
I've put up pictures, good as new
But I still feel that somethings missing.
I've left the walls a time or two
But I start to feel like I am slipping
So I rush back to my closed walls
The dusty, old, forgotten halls
And run my hands across old pictures
Faded paintings, broke light fixtures
I think you've forgotten about me here
A long time ago, when we grew apart
But I am still stuck lingering here
Inside the walls of your broken heart.