the poet & her muse

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐮𝐬

i admit that i miss you,
but it might be the
voice of loneliness
calling you back
to crawl inside this place
that once made me feel home.
but if i let you in,
i'm not allowing myself to
be free, to be loved, to be hurt.
and realising that loving you
is a part of learning,
to heal and grow from the pain.
nothing ever between us is real,
i wish it was,
but both of us know it was only real for me.
you always visit me in midnight,
just to keep me awake with
our memories,
and it's exhausting to remind
myself every second to not
let myself go back to you.
because i realise
i deserve more than this,
and you can't give that to me.