This is a personal documentation through poetry.
I am learning to look inward now, give myself love when I least want to. I do not live to love others, I live to love myself. I will find and create what is enough for me, and you will learn to let it...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
To believe in such a silly concept, well it seems so fruitless. What do you mean—right person, wrong time? If you were right before, then why could it not be? The pain should not have nestled so easily into our happy home. Yet it did. It glided down the back of my throat, burning insufferably on its way. And when it came bubbling back up, telling you what it meant for us, You morphed into something I'd never seen before. The path I was going to walk became clear to me. And then the wind took me. Who would have thought over a year later I'd be hearing your voice again on the phone, Listening to you telling me you love me. Who would have thought I'd be living across the street from where you make a living, And that you'd see my sister so often. Who would have thought this summer would parallel the last, Two significant conversations, two trips to the beach. My heart cannot take it. Because I am too fond of the universe to believe it's all for nothing. My fingers are too deep in the pool of hoping everything has its path and reason for existing. Even so, I refuse to explain for fear of being misunderstood, being criticized. I feel that my time is up, I've spent it all teaching others how to love me right. I am on the brink of taking my last breath, And I do not want to waste it on anyone who does not deserve it. In spite of all that, I find that it comes so naturally to waste it on you.
