I used to think the most hurt I could be
was loving someone that didn't love me.
I know now I was wrong because of how I love you.
and the way you hurt me when you don't even mean to
if I could have loved you without knowing the way
To have you love me entirely, not have to beg you to say.
But I do know how it feels to be loved and wanted
And now to have loved and then lost leaves me feeling haunted.
If I could've loved you with no reciprocation you see,
I'd been fine but this hurt I wouldn't wish upon my worst enemy.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry of Me
PoetryThis is a continuation of Poured Out on Paper. Filled with happiness, love, anger, and lust, here's to another poetry book, and to a whole new adventure... (:
