Evan
I don't want to write about you. I don't want to compare you to sweet things and tragic stories. I didn't love you but I cared about you a great goddamn deal. There's a difference and you don't know it. Nor do you care but that's not what upsets me. It's the girl smiling over your name and the mention of your goofy mannerisms. It's the girl that's stuck with you for 2,920 days and counting. It's the girl telling herself you guys are just friends when you kiss her and turn her heart into honey. It's the girl who doesn't realize she's a dandelion, the most fun to pick. It's the next girl that doesn't have a clue about your past but is willing to do this dance for you. It's the next girl sitting on her bed watching her friends, telling her he's no good for her. It's the girl willing to break bones and slit wrists to show you what you hurt. Oh god, it was me. Oh god, you can't see. See this is what upsets me: you don't care. You won't change. You could never and it doesn't make sense how. How you've come so far and yet are still willing to push innocent people down so deep. I pray for the girl. I pray for the next girl. I pray for me that one day you'll come crying to the right person, to the right girl and someday soon, you'll see, what truly makes a person happy. It isn't lies or skinny bodies or illegal substances mixed with colliding mistakes. It's something I think I know but can't say cause I don't believe you were ever listening anyway.
YOU ARE READING
How I Love You
Poesia". . . . Then must you speak / Of one that lov'd not wisely but too well; / Of one not easily jealous, but being wrought, / Perplex'd in the extreme. . . ." -Act 5, Scene 2 of Othello by W. Shakespeare A collection of poems to the boys and men I hav...
