they're happy
they're both happier by themselves anyway.
they make her happier
than you ever did.
just look,
how they talk to each other.
look at how they look at each other.
shes happier talking with them all the time than she was with you
you barely had anything in common with her anyway why did you ever think it would work out if it has never worked out with anyone ever, especially not with someone you don't even have anything in common with we had things in common are you sure or were you just saying that so she would have more reasons to want to stay you selfish bitch oh my god stop.
I WAS FINE I SWEAR TO GOD it is not fine
I WAS.
I AM.
I WAS JUST FINE.
WHAT
HAPPENED TO THAT.
what happened to that.
how many times do i have to write about this.
how many times will i think im fine and then the day after have a complete mental breakdown for weeks
how many poems will i write
that have the same formula
and the same,
exact,
topic,
until,
i'm free.
i hate poetry,
its beautiful.
i
am
so
fucking
sick
of
this.
you only have yourself
to be angry at
for doing this cycle
every time oh fuck off.
this isn't even good poetry anymore.
my eyes feel watery now
my nose is sniffly
my brain is fried
and my head is down.
let me cry
please.
i need to feel something.
YOU ARE READING
maerdyad
PoetryI don't know, I just need to write stuff right now. When you thought you found the one, after all this time, after all the poeple that left, and it turns out, she loves someone else. For when the rain comes, and the hail, and all hell is unleashed, ...
