call me maestro
because I’m a master
I’m not talking art
I’m talking high class

                                               self loathing
I’ve had so much
practice at it
I’m finely tuned
to how it works. It

                                              is
my strong suit.
It’s pretty much
the only thing I
know how to do. It’s

                                              my
kryptonite, but
also my strength.
You could call it
my only real

                                             specialty

When I fell in love for the first time
She became my world
But more than that she become a part of me
She was my lungs
She kept me breathing
And cut my air supply as she pleased
And when we broke up I couldn't breathe

I gasped for air on my own for the first time in forever
But nothing came
Clawing at my chest as the pain grew stronger
Begging for air to return
But she was gone
and I felt suffocated for years

Slowly I learned to breathe on my own again
Forcing the air into my body
Often against the wishes of my newly independent *****

When my new love came along
I still struggled at times but I knew I could never trust another with that kind of power ever again
So when it feels as though I do not love her as much as the first
I have to remind myself that although she helps me breathe easy
I've never let myself rely on her so severely as my first
I could never make that mistake again
Because I know that losing a part of me again
Will take all the strength I have left
And none will remain to live

They say I'm like you
And you're  like me
Well what the hell
Do people see

Cos if I'm like you
And you're like me
Then who am I
Supposed to be.

April 2017