Poems of a mended artist.

hello.

Could I speak with you for a moment? 

Have just a second of your time? 

For I wish to tell you things you've already heard and things I've already said. 

because I'm not yet used to be heard, 

and I've never been understood. 

I'm broken. not mended and though I act ok, nothing is. 

I told you I'm in love, I told you he didn't hurt me, I told you he helped me.. 

I've never felt more hurt, more like I want to die then when I'm with him. 

I've also never felt as alive and loved. 

I don't know what to do, 

he says he loves me but someone else to, 

he's asks so many times to love us both but I can't. 

he's not mine, he doesn't love me, is all my mind says. 

I can't help but think he never was and never did. 

It hurts but how do I tell him? 

I promised not to leave him, 

and I know I'll never be able to break it off, 

no matter how much it hurts me, 

I want to see him happy. 

He keeps telling me he's my world, he makes me happy, he is my home, and he is. 

but home has always been somewhere hostile for me. 

I hate my home, 

my family, 

my friends, 

at least most of them. 

I see no point in living, the only thing keeping me

the thought of hurting the ones I care about, 

but I guess I can cross you off my list. 

for you don't care about me,

and you always said to stop caring for those who don't give a shit about me. 

I know you couldn't care less, I know you won't understand this. 

I love you even if I try not to.

I need help. 

I need people to see me, 

for who i am, 

and not who I'm meant to be.