why don't i believe the things you say
why do i delve in your words
why do i starve for your affection
aware of it's cheap sentimental pieces
taken from your past loves,
recycled
to make me smile.
i hate that it works,
that your cheap sentimental affection
makes me weak
i forget about me
do you even care?
why. don't. i. believe. you. may. actually.
love. me.
care about me.
want to know me.
why is it hard for me to accept love
is it a self-fulling prophecy or
perhaps merely good acting
to satisfy your own needs
am i that crazy?

it flusters me that
you
pour so much of this affection
and i, so weak and naive
fall each time as though i forget all the other
times you made me feel ill.
all the other times i felt betrayed and
insignificant

not by you, but by my own
shortfall of deep love
for me
for my soul.

you didn't make me feel ill,
that was me.

Sweet words
I've missed you dearly so.
The way you move my
Exhausting thoughts
Making rhythmic tones
Releasing me of my
Gruesome rumination
Sweet words,
Writing poetry
I've missed you
I don't want to ever
Part again for this long
For I become too distraughtful without your touch

My heart ran cold
When you talked about visiting.
Happiness, reality.
I choked
Realising that I couldn't
Give you a thing.
To act human,
To show warmth. To be natural.
To smile, act confident —
I have forgotten how.
Upon loving you,
I could only disappoint.

.       What can you do, fight being you?
        Who can I be, if I'm not being me?
      Where can I go if I don't belong home
      Where can i turn when I feel so alone.

I cannot confide, I have too much to hide
I cannot push further what's deep down inside, I protect you from me and the troubles I bring I won't weigh you down I won't let you drown.

I will not let you share the worries that I bear, I will not let you see, the cracked doll that is me.

I hid you under layers
Bright lies I told myself
In order to forget.
The words you sent
Once catalogued & treasured
Stopped my progress
Or the days that passed.
My eyes closed
Trying to unthink you —
A ghost in the attic,
The pain I can't be without.
I erased emails.
Messages.
Phone numbers.
My heart. My soul.
Yet you still remain.