I gave you my friendship, and it wasn't enough. I gave you my trust, and it still wasn't enough. I gave my heart, and even then it wasn't enough. I gave you my everything and I still wasn't enough. Now I know I'll never be good enough for you, so why do you keep me holding on.
***
You truly are, the angels best work.
***
It's been a year since you told me you loved me, a year today, and now my heart is breaking all over again. I fucking hate anniversaries.
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I live in hope. I've fallen way too hard and far too quickly. It's not love yet but, my God, it could be.
***
I lay awake most nights thinking about all the things I don't know about you yet. Like how you smile in your sleep when you're having a good dream. How strong you like your coffee when you're hungover. Or even, if you sound the same saying 'good morning' as you 'goodnight'.
YOU ARE READING
Confessions of a shitty poet.
PoesiaSome of my poems contain bad language/sensitive issues and therefore I have changed the setting to mature and issue a trigger warning. I am forever updating this book, it will probably never be finished.
