We met in the 7th grade.
You were what I thought was perfect,
That bright smile, handsome face, compassionate personality.
Maybe too clingy,
But you liked me and I was head over boots for you.

During the summer of eight grade,
We were inseparable.
All we needed was each other.
We had our first kiss,
Our first movie,
Our first date,
Our first Christmas.
Everything was how any girl would want their relationship to be like.

“Don’t go,” you said, “I will miss you too much.”
“I love you so much.”
“Why are you so perfect?”
“You are not alone.”


But little did I know, this was love on the brain.


You loved me to the point where you cared too much.
When I would want to hang with my friends,
I would have to ask.
The time where he wouldn’t let me resist,
I would think this is how it’s supposed to be.
Facetiming calls and messages,
Where you would tell me things to make me upset,
He is just trying to make me better.  

“Worthless.”
“You can’t do that.”
“Liar.”
“Why did you betray me?”
“I love you.”

In the end,
I was the one hurting.
The one who was sent to get help.
What was wrong with me?
You.
Love on the brain.