All I remember is you telling me you were so happy that you could actually live,
Now I can't escape the fact that I love you,
It's exactly how they said it would be,
Some days I'm okay and I'm happy because I know that this is for the better,
But some days every fibre of my being cries out for you,
the stuff I loved I just don't seem to love anymore,
Because the minute we realized we were twins,
It became our stuff,
I didn't realize that when you left you would take everything I loved with you,
I know you don't care,
But I'm mad that you're not in my life anymore,
I'm mad that you said we were forever and lied,
And I'm mad that even though I know the pain will stop one day,
It feels like I'm already dead,
And after everything you left me with the note,
"I'm not even gonna count this".
YOU ARE READING
17th Street.
PoetryThese are short poems I wrote throughout my 17th street of life and it was the only way I deemed fit for me to heal and ascend out of all the love and heartbreak and loss I've had to deal with. I wrote them in hopes that one day I'd get to look back...
