for too long,
the arms of another felt like the sting of a rose bush down my waist
you never know they’ll hurt you until they do
and he did.

you wrapped your arms around me
for the first time in months
in another person’s arms
i felt safe.
the night I first kissed you
it was warm.
there was no sting.
you are daisies.
not roses.

“i can’t stand another night knowing that you think something is up.”
I knew.
I knew something was wrong.
“I’m breaking up with you.”
what?
“I really cared and cared about you”
when did it stop?
the caring?
“all I know is, this hasn’t felt right lately.”
since when?
why not?
“this has nothing to do with you.”
how?
“we’re both in very different places in our lives.”
why couldn’t you have realized this months ago?
“there’s nothing you could have changed.”
sure.
coward.
how many times did you tell me that you loved me without meaning it?
*******.
I knew something was wrong.
kept telling myself everything was fine.
nothing was.
you weren’t.
I could never help.
there’s no point in me being sad over a guy who stopped caring.

a dumb screenshot of youth
i thought you were it
im always wrong
doing everything right
still getting ****** up in the end.
because I’m sick of losing soulmates
why is it always me
broken hearted in the end
torn up, beaten down,
still getting ****** up in the end
what the hell would I be without you
im so sick of losing people
that shaped me
made me new
im sick of losing people like you.
constantly getting ****** up and ****** over in the end.
I’m sick of losing soulmates,
won’t be alone again.

what happens when you get tired of her too?
when she isn’t enough for you?
nitpicking at every aspect of her
picking at her personality like a child picking petals off a rose.
only calling her when you’re lonely
breaking her heart slowly
leaving her shattered on the ground
with only herself to sweep up
or maybe that’s just me.
maybe you’re meant for each other.
maybe she’s narcissistic, egotistical, rude and selfish just like you,
maybe you two balance each other right out.
or maybe she isn’t.
ill never know.
it’s like we never happened.
when you get tired of her, are you just going to move onto the next best thing?
constantly leaving destruction in your path?
breaking people slowly, taking parts of them they’ll never get back
when will I be myself again?
the me I was before you.