There will come a time
when you are sick of trying
to understand my wrists
and my mind
and how I am more than one person
when I do this.
I know you will become sick
of saving me
and that you will regret knowing my mind.
You will not miss
my selfishness
or inconsideration when I do this
and you will not miss the 2am phone calls
that come with trying to love me.
You will hurt
when I push you away
and flinch at your touch
and you will hurt
when I isolate myself
and hate myself.
You will leave when I try to love you
and you will leave
when I lose it.
You will leave
and you will not come back--
I am not worth the fight.
Jun 6, 2013
Jun 6, 2013 at 6:06 PM UTC
There will come a time
when you are sick of trying
to understand my wrists
and my mind
and how I am more than one person
when I do this.
I know you will become sick
of saving me
and that you will regret knowing my mind.
You will not miss
my selfishness
or inconsideration when I do this
and you will not miss the 2am phone calls
that come with trying to love me.
You will hurt
when I push you away
and flinch at your touch
and you will hurt
when I isolate myself
and hate myself.
You will leave when I try to love you
and you will leave
when I lose it.
You will leave
and you will not come back--
I am not worth the fight.
Request permission to use this poem