“There’s 7 billion, 46 million people on the planet and most of us have the audacity to think we matter” –George Watsky  

Dear George,  
You were there for everyone else. I cried for them all while my dad begged you in whispers,
and you melted into the crowds of people,
and you dove from the balconies,
and pretended like the world consisted of somebodies.
You left me with cold copies and ignorant earth.  
Somehow you made 4am into something selfish.
I was losing lessons I was willing to learn. I had no songs to sing,
while you were serenading the ****,
and were packing his bags, and became his love letters for her,
and you made me lose someone I never had.

You wrapped every lesson I ever needed up in an empty inbox.    
You painted San Fran diamond sidewalks empty gold,and I needed you!
You were there for the mutilated, and kissed their filthy trigger fingers, and spat on birthday wishes, and you made me desire the life of a passenger.
You were the only one that reminded me how to smile; you drowned out slamming doors…  
You didn’t have to make the water thicker or make the bottom seem so far.
You didn’t have to give them boats of Titanic shards!
Your silence  made sinking inevitable.  

You gave me more with empty hands than I ever would have thought.  You taught me that every hero dies,
and that I will always love the traitors,
never love cardboard cutouts, or dream of cardboard castles.
You showed me how it feels grasping at ghosts,
and how much you can doubt,and just how much that hurts.  
I hope you never write your idols.  

With Love,  
The Girl That Will Never Learn