I don't read poetry anymore. It's not that the writer's aren't good.
Or that I've lost interest.
I don't read poetry because everyone seems to be either in love
(and I'm not)
or everyone is heartbroken
(and I don't want to be reminded)
Or perhaps I just don't believe they can relate to me anymore. (Yeah, don't consider the possibility you can't relate to them anymore)
Who else had given seven years of their love to their best friend and it remain unrequited?
Who else finally managed to fall in love with a different girl only to have her taken from you?
(You blame her family, but she probably just hated you for ******* her life up)
Or for your last ditch effort at love, she ends up cutting contact for no reason, only for you to find out months later she was pregnant?
That's the one that finished me.
Unrequited love turned to a *** addiction that destroyed so many people.
(I was so selfish)
Don't say it doesn't have a price because I can take you to the grave of a girl who killed herself because I couldn't reciprocate that she fell for me.
(It's been two years and i still blame myself. i'm so sorry)
So the *** turned to alcohol and I wanted to feel numb. Just make me numb to it all.
I want to love someone who isn't married. Who doesn't already have a boyfriend. Who won't give up on me.
(I've long since given up on myself)
But I'm just a time bomb in their lives. An inferno that leaves permanent wounds.
Maybe that's why my best friend never fell for me.
I don't want me either.
//On her and muse//
I just need a moment to vent this. The circle I go through in my head.
