Dear The One,
Your fingers are still latched onto my heart
And I'd like to know why?
Why is it that I am unable to get rid of your voice and your eyes and all the memories that accompany you, out of my head?
Do you know how much it still hurts?
It hurts less, yes
But it still hurts to think about you or about who is taking up your time and why it's not me, why am I not her
What makes me so insufficient and so unbearable?
I've given you love in the form of a mind and body ready to offer you a lifetime of happiness and yet still,
I was disposed
As if I was nothing but trash
I'm here to tell you that I'm so through crying over you
The words no longer linger in my mind
They no longer dance on my tongue
They no longer exist
You have ruined whatever poem I was becoming into
And I am so **** tired of being the broken-hearted girl, unable to move on from a guy who is unable to love her FULLY
I am So much to deal with because I have so much to give and not the right person to give it to.
I am so ******* special and it's such a shame that you were too blind to see that in the midst of stone, I was a diamond shining so bright.