Back and forth, left and right
We never could make up our minds,
We never could be on the same page
We always were too disengaged.
When you wanted attention
I wanted freedom
When I wanted commitment
You wanted a reason.
We spoke of love like it had no limits
One of us was always more invested.
One day we were inseparable and the next I was at your throat
One minute you had your arms around me then in a flash you would explode...
For the longest time we truly believed
That I was meant for you, and you for me,
We thought two broken souls had finally found a home
But we were even too broken for each other and the result was a cyclone.
Our love was a tragedy and I don't believe it was real
We both just wanted a heart to steal...
We lost ourselves and its sad to remember
That at one point we both made a promise of forever,
We were best friends and now we can't even speak
Because every time just brings up too many bad memories.
Your pictures make me puke and your voice gives me a headache
But at one time just thinking of you used to keep me awake,
And at one point you trusted me enough to tell me your secrets
Things I know now you wish you never revealed.
Three times you asked me to marry you and make it official
But each time I said no because I was too fearful
Terrified of you and your selfish ways
All of this **** I've said too many times, just in different ways
It just doesn't go away.

To my dear poems,
Although you're close to me, I will no longer strive for perfection with you
For I believe the raw emotions and imperfections make you beautiful and I am too in love with your flaws
The scraps of paper with scribbled words
Coffee stained napkins where sudden inspiration hit
Temporary words on palms
And unlike mine, I love your scars
You let my heart speak without a filter and the more perfection I force upon you by replacing words and rewording my pain,
it becomes nothing more than a never ending game,
making me obsessed about your appearance, I end up with useless words that make not a difference.
So instead of giving you hours, I will give you each a piece of myself and I know it will remain safe with you.
From your imperfect writer