i walk past your house on Saturday afternoons;
do you remember all the things that we used to do?
you'll tell me you love me and i'll think that it's true,
sometimes, i miss all the games
that i used to play with you.
when you said it was over,
we both knew it wasn't over,
we both knew that
you'd be coming back in a few months,
saying "i'm sorry; i was so wrong."
when i said that i was moving on,
i was inviting you back into my arms,
but then the curtains fell and so the games ended,
you saw me for my true self,
and i didn't know how
it took you so long to see it,
you had multiple paths and took the one
i was too scared to travel,
you left and burned the ground behind you,
knowing i would want to follow.
i'm left with a void that you never filled up,
but made me think that i never had one.
i don't love you;
we both know that it's true.
you don't love me;
we were both fools.
we were lonely, so we drowned
in misplaced tears in dirty bathtubs,
trying to fill up holes which
we didn't know that we had in us.
sometimes, i wish that i had mattered to you,
but wanting to be wanted is
the worst crime here that you can do.
i'm in debt and i'll never be able to pay it back,
for everything you gave me,
that i wish i never had.
i don't know what i would want for you.
even if our games were cruel,
i think that you might deserve
what you dreamed of since we were in school,
so, i'll leave this month's payment
on your porch with a note,
and if you ever dare to read it,
you would know that i want to say sorry,
but i won't.
a/n:
hi! the last 2 poems that i have published, don't truly fit into the theme i had planned for this book. i still really wanted to publish them, because they are important to me. i will resume my usual vibe with my upcoming pieces tho xx
