I hate everything about you
and yet,
I still love you.
You were supposed to be perfect
and life was going to follow a master plan
White picket fence
You remember that dream?
We used to talk about the possibilities
but one possibility
we never discussed
was a life where you were not in it
Where I lived in my solitude
and you were gone
I remember hating myself for thinking such thoughts
You were my first
You're touch was like magic
wild fire across my heart
And now
A dead tree branch.
Devoid of life
And my love is as dead.
**** this love
it wasn't perfect anyways