Four Years [Poetry]

61. Hurt

August 12, 2015

My days were all about him

Whenever I'd go to class

Whenever I'd go home

He was there

The first thing I used to do after school was

To write about him

Our interactions, our exchanges of glances, what he had done

I would write every single thing I could about him

I was "in love"

I didn't want to forget

But that wasn't healthy

At all

'Cause he didn't like me back

And I only discovered that

Years later

You know how it felt to love someone and not to be loved back?

It hurt me,

It hurt me too much