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Yung Wifey Dec 2014
The problem is not, that I'm not loved
The problem is, that I am loved
And I know that I am loved
By family and friends
I am loved so very deeply
So why isn't this enough for me?
It should be more than enough
Yet still
I have a boundless black hole in my chest that has a constant craving to be fulfilled by some boy that I know is not good for me

The problem is not, that I'm not loved
The problem is, that I am
And it's just not enough for me
When will I be satisfied?
  Dec 2014 Yung Wifey
kgl
like a cigarette, ignited and raised to your scornful lips
you made me your addiction
and i let you consume me
  Dec 2014 Yung Wifey
ally m
it's almost like you're never gone;
i see my idea of you everywhere.
Yung Wifey Dec 2014
Maybe one day I'll be good enough for you
But if that day is not today
Then I refuse to keep waiting around

For too long
Ì've blamed myself
I've blamed myself for not being enough
I've blamed myself for being crazy and ******
I've blamed myself for you leaving
But then I started to realize
You were the one that made me this way
You ****** me up
But you were the one that wanted the apology

So maybe one day
I'll be good enough for you
But today
I am good enough for myself
And that is all that matters
I can`t do this to myself anymore. It is driving me insane. I`m not okay.
Yung Wifey Dec 2014
The colour black is known to be a sad, depressing colour
Why?
Black is comfort
Black is bold
Black is beautiful

Then again,

Black is the absence of colours
Black is the vacant space that is unresponsive
Perhaps, that is why most poets like the colour black
It reminds them of their inconspicuous selves
The type of absence they feel consistently in their selfless, vulnerable hearts
It reminds them of themselves because they always
Give
Give
Give
And never get the chance to receive
unfinished
Yung Wifey Dec 2014
I'm ****** because I don't find passion in things like art, dancing, and singing.
I find passion in boys.
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