ok my last attempt at really laying down a poem that has some depth, yet I feel by mentioning this i have already slightly failed.

I cant pretend that everything is always ok, yet I must try.
i cant pretend that life is always giving cause that is a lie.
I cannot say that losing you took alot away.
that you giving me nine months didnt bring some kind of change.
your long gone and moved on and im doing my best to do the same

girls twice as pretty as me say that im a fair lover
but even with them i still am not happy,
that five people in a week makes me feel more ******
that every night after five and i cant sleep and i still think
they are not you
and sure you probably had a reason,
yet i was the artist
the dream of owning a van
the idea that photography was a walking dead art form and now you hold the camera just to  take pictures of him
sure im bitter.
how many people in this world would desert you
tell you things with substance just to come apart like a cake that didnt sit well
nine months of I Love Yous just to tell me in the end that it wasnt how it seemed.
you left me with rent and broken sense of self and i forgave you for it, now i find it hard to forgive myself for being so forgiving.

I wont edit this cause i dont feel that it deserves the time.