you know that feeling when you know that you have met the most wonderful person in the world and you know that they could complete you? then, the feeling of knowing there isn’t a damn thing that you can do about it?
i don’t think people really change; i think we just slowly start to see their true colors. sometimes we like it. most of the time we don’t.
we were so close. you were my best friend. now, when i look at you, i don’t even begin to recognize who i see and it’s scary. you’ve transformed right before my eyes and now it’s like i never knew you. like maybe i read about you in a book, saw you on TV, or passed by you on a street. we are so close, but so far away.
she will always have something
that i don’t
and i’m not sure i want it
anymore
if this is how you want
to live
i will let you
because i’m in no position
to play god tonight
why is everything i write about
heartbreak?
why is everything i write about
how you did me wrong or how he is
with her and not me
every line i write is about who
i don’t want to write about anymore
and if that’s the case, why do
i continue to do it?
i guess it’s a habit
knowing no one wants to hear
this, i do it for myself
the only thing i do for myself
is write down everything that makes
me hurt
like some how i am transferring
it from my heart to computer
but,
eventually it won’t even power up
and i will have to move to pen and paper
and eventually that pen will run out of ink
and no longer work
and eventually i won’t either
i just wanted to be seen and you saw me. i’m sorry that’s all i really wanted. i’m a selfish soul. i am human.
it shouldn’t bother me,
but it does
there is no one i can lean on
i made you a crutch, but
you can’t help me this time
because it’d require something
that i don’t have
and that is the confidence to
tell you how much you mean to me
so i’ll sit through it again
and you can be tangled in sheets
and you whisper things in her ears
while i wish it could be mine
and i’ll sit with my teenage
angst and pretend this isn’t
killing me
