Poetry From A Broken Mind

He Was...

He was my best friend,
He was my lover;
He was the air I breathed,
And my comfort when I was upset.

He became my world,
And my love;
I gave him the glock, not thinking
That he'd ever pull the trigger.

But that's what I get
For falling for him;
Him and his entrancing eyes,
And his honey-coated, sugar-loaded lies.

He became my everything,
The bane of my existence,
But there was one small problem;
I'm not sure he loved me back.

I love completely, indiscriminately,
All or nothing, no in-between.
I gave him the entirety
Of my broken heart.

But how can he love it
How can he love me
When my heart is worthless
And dirt has more value?

I was in love with an idea,
In a false romance with lonely
But I saw him, flaws and all,
And I still loved him.

Maybe it's because my laugh's too obnoxious,
Too loud on his ears.
Maybe it's my acne,
And he doesn't want to be seen with a girl with a face full of acne.

But my heart was full
Of nothing short of love for him;
People I knew said he was a bit 'husky' for me,
And that I deserved someone better.

They were right,
I see that now.
I didn't listen,
And now it's my fault I'm bleeding.

But I'm used to it,
The pain and bleeding.
I've felt the pain deep in the marrow of my bones,
And the bleeding always came in rainbow colors.

'We all bleed red'
That's a good concept;
Good to make it seem we are all equal
In our lives, in our sorrows, in our pain.

But we don't all bleed red;
Some of us bleed cyan, forest green, deep oceanic blue;
Royal purple, and even as yellow as the sun.

So, no not all of us
Bleed just red.
There are those of us whose blood color depends
On the mood we are in when we bleed.

He used to be my sunshine,
He used to be my smile.
But he let all that go
When he left me all alone.