Once upon a time, we gave each other the title "best friend".
To me, it meant so much more than it did to you.
It meant acceptance, openness, honesty, love.
To you, it was just a title.
You told me once that we would always be best friends,
That nothing would ever change that.
I was ignorant enough to believe you.
Even after you played games with my heart and mind,
I still believed you.
Perhaps, it was stupidity at it's finest.

They say your first love isn't necessarily
The person who shares your first kiss,
Or the person you marry.
It's the one you compare everyone too.

You are my first love, though, you never even loved me.

You put me though so much unnecessary ****,
And every time,
I continued to run back to you.
Because you were my best friend.

You will probably never understand the depths of my love for you.
But it's okay, because I don't either.

I just wish you knew that I choose you every time.

I've cut off all possible traces that could lead me back to you;
Because it's not worth it anymore.
I'm tired of being ignored.
I'm tired of being taken for granted.
I'm tired of you getting the final say.

Wanna know what I say?
                     *******.

It's funny really.
Four weeks ago you laid it all out.
You told me how you "really" feel.
You told me that my poetry makes you angry because
I "should never have been treated like that".
You told me that you love me.
I just find it ironic that a month later,
We're barely talking,
You're dating someone else,
And all has gone back to as if you never said anything.
All except for me.
What am I supposed to do with those three words?
What do I do with this new information?

Did you even mean it?

It's just funny really how you said
The people in my past ruined your chances,
When really,
Right now,
You'e doing a pretty good job of ******* them up all by yourself