Poetry By Me

H e a r t p a i n

When you love someone, you give them everything.

You give them every single fucking thing.

It's scary, because there's always a chance that it's not enough.

Every single time. 

Whenever I've loved someone, I've given them all of me.

It wasn't enough.

I wasn't enough.

Nobody's listening.

Are they?

Maybe I'm the only one who'll listen to me anymore.

The feeling of loneliness that sets in is suffocating.

It feels like a very angry, menacing parasite slowly eating at your insides

Until there's nothing left but a dark, black abyss, full of nails and sharp edges and pain.

The anxiety sets in.

The neverending paranoia, the panic, the FEAR of going through that loneliness again.

It happens again.

And again.

Bruised.

Broken.

Until you just CAN'T.

You CAN'T love people anymore.

There's no energy.

The hole takes up too much room.

The depression sets in.

Appetites diminish.

Dissapear.

Until you wish that YOU had dissapeared. 

Gone.

Nonexistent.

Numb.

Bitter.

ALONE.

It blocks everything out.

Until you meet that one person?

That one amazing, beautiful, kind, loving, sensitive, cute, funny, quirky person?

They see themselves in the way you see yourself.

Two halves of a person.

Two halves of a heart.

Two halves make a whole, don't they?

They were your other half all along.

You see the self-deprecation they throw on themselves. 

You see the self-loathing. 

A splitting image of yourself.

Two people, one heart.

Maybe I wouldn't mind being betrayed by you.

If it means that I could give you peace of mind. 

Why would they ever choose me?

Maybe they wanted their other half just as much as I wanted mine. 

Maybe I'll be okay.

Maybe this will be okay.

Maybe I can trust one last time.