Jesus Christ I loved you
But that never mattered to you did it

I missed you
But you never missed me

I'm not going to cry over you
Because you're not worth it

Jesus Christ I don't love you
But I always will

I was once complimented on my confidence
I replied I didn't have any
I was once complimented on my looks
I replied I wasn't much of a looker

For you see
This was the old me
Reluctant to believe the beauty of my being
I pulled at my skin and frowned at my face
For being anything but me was a sort of dreamy daze

People seemed to enjoy this

Now I smile at my reflection
Swoon over my photos
Roll my eyes at those who remark I'm conceited
Give a knowing and smug look at those who give me a second glance

Never before have I been so hated for doing something
I should have done a long time ago
But I shall die with vanity in which knows no bounds
Before I learn to hate myself with the passion of the fiery pits of hell once more

I've never understood the basic concept
Of someone needing me
But maybe someday
Someone somewhere
Will need me
As much as I need them

Imagine loving someone enough to give them up
Because they deserve better
You don't say that to get away
You say that so they can get away

They were like a sunset
The type with thousands of shades of orange
Clouds lingering right above acting as licking flames
The type if you witnessed with company you'd want them to see too
So you'd pester and pester even if they were busy
Going as far to yank them out into the yard if they kept refusing
As soon as they finally saw both of you would develop an overwhelming desire to run around the neighborhood and draw everyone out of their homes so they too could see
They were gorgeous and everyone could see that
There is a sort of pride in that of course
Being able to look at such a thing and say
"It's for me."
That though was the part of them I detested as much as I loved

For I am a selfish lover
I'd rather love a galaxy billions of light years away
Galaxies no one has seen and immediately would refuse to believe in if I offered my statement of it
Galaxy in which only belong to my eyes
I would rather love something only I see and believe in

It was never that I was possessive
No, if they longed to leave I would not have protested
It was the idea of them one day leaving that terrified me
For if everyone else could see their beauty there was no stopping them from loving you the way I did
Nothing stopping them from maybe loving you better and more
It was the thought of someone being able to love you better and more that made me feel unneeded
The idea that you needed something I could not offer
Sure you wanted me, but you didn't need me

You were the sun
I was a star
You had the moon as your admirer
I know how that story ends
The love of the sun and the moon is something in which is beyond love itself
How am I, a star, meant to compete with such a thing
For there are billions like me
For there is only one moon

One day you will see that as clearly as I do
How I broke my heart into millions of pieces
So you heart would one day have the love it so rightfully deserved

I didn't know you and you didn't know me
Not anymore, at least
Our smiles and hugs weren't because we cared
They were because we felt an obligation to the past
To make up for something we both regretted

He looked like art

Now that's an understatement because he was art

My favorite form, abstract in a sense because he had sharp edges, none as sharp as his tongue though

An odd and strange beauty that so few could understand

A beauty who's shapes I traced in my persistence to understand it

Who's being I blamed when I could not

Deeming forth a review that stated his existence was an excuse for a child's finger painting

Like harsh critics we took away it's beauty by ripping it apart by its flaws

Like critics we tore down its structure to level it to a platform which would bring us no inconvenience

And like a dying man reviewing all his regrets I have finally come to the realization that the art he was before we tore it apart was an art the stars painted in an attempt to be understood

I was never one to ponder the topic of love
Not for reasons of it not appealing to me
Or due to the fact I couldn't find anyone to venture the subject with
Simply due to the fact I was far more in belief I was not deserving of it

Love was to hold something pure and delicate within your palms
To caress something with a gentle and caring nature
A nature that wouldn't be mistaken for anything other than a lover's touch

I was never a lover
I was raised a fighter
My palms could never be soft enough to hold something so delicate
I could only be terrified at the thought of holding it to tightly and crushing it

Your fingertips held the heat of stars
Mine only knew the warmth of a flame
Your smile hid the smirk of the devil
I only knew the smiles of the ******
Your words were laced with poison
I was never one to request a taste tester

You were as angelic as you were demonic

The heart you held was left ****** and bruised
The memory of your smiles are engraved with burnt lines
Your last words are stuck on reply

"I still love you."