I wrote this poem for you Knowing you'll never read it I tried to rhyme my pain away Knowing you'll never heal it
I start my day with you on my mind Knowing you'll never be mine I end my day trying to dream of you Knowing it's the closest I can get to feeling your warmth
I hurt myself now and again Believing I will one day matter Only to be dismissed too easily Too small, too uninteresting Not your type
Maybe tomorrow I'll realise how to stop measuring my worth Based on how much time and effort and attention you give me. Maybe tomorrow you'll stop being the subject of all this poetry.
I found this draft (first 3 stanzas) that I think I wrote in June 2016. I dont even remember to whom I wrote this for or why. Reading it feels to me like someone else wrote it.