My Poetry

Tears Because He Doesnt Care

as tears stream down my face
causing a clear drop to cover up a freckle all
i can think of is you. how you would call me pathetic.
crazy.
emotional. embarrassing.
all i can feel is the color blue. blue is like my eyes.
like the sky. like the ocean.
like our favorite color.
but now i realize maybe it was all a lie.
maybe your favorite color wasn't blue.
maybe you never liked me. because that's how it feels.
that's how it has felt.
that's how i see things.
you say the word kinda like it's a long space in between i and like.
but it's not a space. it takes up more than no spaces ever could.
it means i was never good enough for you to ever truly like me.
i wasn't kind,
funny,
pretty,
skinny enough.
and now the stretch marks on my thighs are really noticeable.
they are crying in agony as i dig to find something useful. something with a decent purpose.
as i wipe the sorrow from my skin,
i walk out feeling my weight crash.
i kept telling myself "you are fat"
"don't eat"
"count calories"
as if i was obese.
because that's what i saw. that's what i still see.
and now i lie awake, wondering if that's how others view me.
he says "it's not your fault" but if it wasn't then why doesn't he like me.
why doesn't he want to love me.
why doesn't he try. now the tears are dry.
but my eyes are still weak. just like everything about me.