You pulled back your fishing pole and cast the line.
Me, being the fish in the equation, bit the bait on the line.
I waited and waited, day and night, to be pulled in.
Waited to be caught, waited to be yours.
But that day never came.
I swam up to the surface to see if you were still there.
The line had been cut and you were nowhere to be found.
I let go of the bait and I sat and waited for another to come around.
But they would just do the same each time until you came along.
You were my one.
You pulled back your fishing pole and cast the line.
Me, being the fish in the equation, bit the bait on the line.
You reeled me in and set me in a bucket with many other fish that you had caught.
I thought you were the one, my one.
But you did what all the others had done, except for making me suffer.
I am not able to breathe, not able to think.
Unable to move, unable to sink.
I am unable to do anything.
The ones who cut the line and left me in the water to thrive knew better than you who pulled me out of the water to die.

You see, in actuality, I am not the fish and you are not the fishermen.
We are just two individuals with a whole lot of baggage and a whole lot of insecurities.
You don’t like your smile, you don’t like your body.
I don’t like my body, I don’t like how my face looks.
We don’t talk outside of social media and that was the issue,
Because I fell for this fake persona, who wasn’t you.
We talked about everything, had so much in common, and now we have nothing.
We had a pact, to never leave one another unless the other wanted, but that didn’t last.
We made promises, but we took them back.
It would never work, and we knew that.
I forgive you for leading me on and being a siren, singing a sweet, yet soul-crushing song.
And after all, somehow I still love you, but I can move on.