I wasn’t done. I couldn’t fix you. I wasn’t helping you. I want you still. I hate that I let myself keep holding onto you. I wasn’t obsessed with you But it hurt. It hurt as bad as a sharp knife Into clean skin. I know better, Than to be hung up over someone, Someone who hurt me the way they did. I was foolish to believe something could last, And it didn’t. Not even close. You are my true heartbreak.