Four days I wrote you
Here I am
Slapping my hand away from trying again
I don't know why I keep going
Something about you
Seems worth reaching for.
I think I've realized the more poems I write about someone the more toxic they are to me
Here's number 25 for you
I suppose that pales in comparison to the thousands I wrote for my first love but I've known you a lot less time
And you've never even been mine
And that's okay
Because at this rate
You never will be.
I don't know what's worse anymore
Missing someone you once had
Or missing someone who was never even yours.
The best thing you ever did for me
Was break my heart...
It taught me how to be strong alone
And even stronger together.
Too much sleep
Too many R.E.M cycles
Too many dreams
Of course your face had to show up at least once.
I don't know if I can go home
I don't know if I can sleep beside you and pretend you haven't broken my heart.
How can you disappoint me in so many ways?
Why am I not good enough to celebrate Valentine's?
Fine if I'm not
But why am I not good enough for surprise dinners?
Why don't you seem to go out of your way to make me happy but I have to sacrifice to make you happy?
I hate you right now
And you tell me you love me
Tell me I'm your whole world
And all I can think is
That's because I gave you mine
I've given you everything.