I think love broke me.
i used to think feeling this way
was just a form of over reaction-
maybe source of attention,
or a lack of intent to be happy with yourself.
Ever since I fell in and out of love with you,
i’ve come to to conclusion, that
i fell out of everything that i was used to.
Who am i anymore?
Who is the face I look at in the mirror?
Who’s girl who accepts roses from men,
but doesn’t take into consideration
that maybe that rose wasn’t mean for her.
It’s meant for someone who isn’t allergic.
who loves the smell of deceitful lies,
who loves to grab the **** things by their thorns.
I’m incapable of love, you see!
I’m tied to the never ending cycle of saying
“i’m over him, but i’m not ready”,
Until everyone waiting has left,
“focus on other things,” they say;
trying to act like their source of happiness,
doesn’t come from their lover, laying right beside them every night.
what kind of life do i live,
when i have my head down in the ground
instead of in the clouds?
i can paint pretty pictures with chalk
on the cement,
and act like i’m floating....
Sad part is, nobody would tell the difference anyway.
my mom was right when she told me
you have to love yourself,
before you love anyone else-
and i’m working on that.
my head is in the concrete clouds.
when it’s 2AM and you’re in your feels