letter to you

a poem first:

We had become so stagnant

I had started to fade

So when you started saying it 

I wanted to mean it again

So I ran it over and over in my hands

Hoping to feel something 

like I did before you went and shattered me

Because You and i, we're made of glass

We'd never last 

i used to look past flaws. yours, mine, ours. i didn’t think there were any or if there were, i didn’t want to see them. now, it’s as if a veils been lifted and i don’t care if you leave. i know you’re just trying to run away from me. that never solves anything. you’re addicted but never knew a healthy way of showing it. its finally registering. all that you did..or “didn’t mean to do.” you’ll apologize profusely. and i won’t hear it. so i tell you to stop. because it already happened. 

i know your worst fear is me looking back and thinking that you weren’t that good of a guy and that you didn’t treat me well.

hmmm. well..

there were good times. in 2 week spurts speckled with bits of cancerous mold from which were never fully extracted from my overly giving heart. they went so deep that the festering hurt worse than the newly introduced stab of your indirect wounds. because of course you “didn’t mean to.” so i numbed myself and heard your apologies. 

i thought you were worth it.

but you could never give me 100% when i gave you 110

lets not forget you cheated because that still haunts me all the time. i get the most vivid visuals and they kill. don’t ever forget that.

lets also not forget you hung out with her when i was out of town and kept it from me until I pulled it out of you weeks later.

i believe that your idea of disrespect is slightly marred.

you beat yourself up about the thought of having your hands down my pants or the action of a dry orgasm but you hide me from your family and date her on the side. or am I the one on the side? i don’t know anymore because i have learned to never ask. you think thats okay. or thought so then.

yes, you opened my door and never failed to tell me i was pretty but i heard “I love you” more when we didn’t have a title

i could probably go on

i’m getting over the “loss”

it’s “not the right thing” and

by the grace of God, i’m falling out of love

i finally got my mind right. and i don’t want you.

we can still be friends though

i mean, you still are my best

but you just might bleed to death