It’s not You Im not over,
It’s how You told me it was over.
It’s not You I miss,
It’s the way I miss how I loved myself
When I was loving You.
Out of all the people I’ve lost,
I miss myself the most.
If the mind replays what the heart can’t delete,
Then why is so much of me gone?
I didn’y know what I had until I lost it?
No, I knew what I had
Just never though I’d lose it.
Everyone has a chapter in their story
That they replay over and over
Harder and harder to flip the page
When I know you won’t be in the new exposition.
But I do turn it, I turn it quickly.
If i could just leave all of the hurt on the last page
Everytihng will be okay right?
That’s the thing about pain though,
It demands to be felt.
Pain is love, love is pain
But so I’ve learned
Love doesn’t hurt
Somone who doesn’t know how to love does.
Someone who takes and never gives.
Betrayal in the rising action.
And so we carry on.
Looking back at times I cried, I now laugh.
Why didn’t you tell me looking back at times I laughed
Would make me cry?
And so we carry on
Reading the book of my life,
Turning the pages,
Slower this time.
Who’s the author?
I now know it can’t be me.
I said the story was over,
The pain too much to keep reading.
So who’s the author?
I now know it can’t be me.
I would have written an ending with no falling action, no resolution.
In the end it doesn’t hurt
If it still hurts It’s not the end.
And so we carry on
Chapter by chapter
Page by page
Word by word.

By Ava Emery