I'm sitting here.
Here seems to be the place I come often, to think.
Today I'm sitting here thinking about what I think about too often.
I'm not good enough for anyone.
The pieces of me that thought I was were given as parting gifts to all the ones I used to love, the ones I loved too much, the ones that loved my love.
The ones who's egos were fed with my love, thrived off my love, and simply existed because of my love.
I was tricked into thinking I was your lifeline, until you left and I realized,
you still had a healthy heartbeat and I was the only one hanging in the balance.