I think I'm sad because I live my days forgiving you
I spent a piece of my life consumed by the idea that you had done no wrong
And did not need what this thing inside me was.
And, you did no wrong but some other piece of me needs you to see my ugly
Just as much as you let me see yours knowing I could never go back
I'm spending the rest of my life serving myself knowing that a part of you can't come back.
Regardless of when you decide to regret because that's the cruelty of the situation
You have the luxury to do that.
And I ask myself, is it easier for me to be sad because I'm so used to this lifestyle?
Easier for me to be sad because I refuse to be happier without you. Or simply just be happy.
I am so fucking performative, I'm happy but it feels like insanity.
I know what I don't remember because there was a time when I was younger and close to family.
Close to family because I was a loveable child. Was it my freshness that gave me such a magnetism? I was scared of getting older but that's such a fresh-faced fear. All the people I love are different people, they change too. You have the luxury to regret. I am replaceable and for that I forgive you.
This ugliness is inherent but so is love, may you be the first love of all your children.
I know the idea of home consumed you just as much as you did to me.
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PoetryTW' trauma dumping read this in an accent, thank you. Yes, all thoughts are authentic but never original. This kills me, so I search. It would kill me less if all authenticity didn't claim healing is a forgetting through the passage of time. That t...
