Poetry in motion

1. Leftovers

Leftovers:

The words you can't read are the scars left behind by the ones that came first.
The things i don't say are the corset that has shaped me, the obstacles holding me back.
Im sorry that all you can have is the leftovers, sorry thats all you and the ones to follow will get.
Im sorry that you couldn't see the purest version of me, the one before the messes and the turmoil and the sadness.

But without those messes, turmoil, and sadness, we may never have met.
We may never have connected. P
We may never have had the chance to talk, hang, cuddle, hug.
We may never have tried.
So for that, i am glad that i got the leftovers.
Im glad i got to know you here and now.
After him, and him, and him, and him, and him.
You are a ray of hope in the glassy darkness, my light in the tunnel.
You are the reason i cant wait to see another day.
You are the reason i look optimistically at all things sad.
The reason i feel like this.

You be glad that i am a mess.
That i even gave you the time of day.
That i haven't given up entirely on love.
I may never give up, and i may never truly let go of my first love.
But it's your job to accept that, or let me alone.
Here's a new thing to you, I may never get to say this to your face, but, olive juice.
O.
Live.
Juice.

I love you.

We wrote this together at the end of our relationship. We wrote this just days before we decided it was all over.

Days.

Only a few days ago i was one of the happiest girls around. I had it all. Brains, braun, smashing good looks. Nah. Just kidding. But i had a man who thought i was all that. And that man was exactly what i needed.

He used to say the same thing about me. I was all he needed. So I'm not sure what caused us to consciously remove our happiness.

Dumb.

Stupid.

Fake.

Failure.

These are thoughts i face each time i wake up. each time i attempt to sleep. Each time i see our bench. Our tree. Our table. Each time i see the bathroom where i gave myself away. Each time i see the locker where we first kissed. Each time i walk down that school hallway. Any school hallway.

But I- we- are supposed to tell you how this all happened. From start to finish. Here we go.

•~~~~~~~~•
Hello my Yummy Jelly Beans,
I would like to introduce my best book idea ever. Written mainly through poetry. I realized lately why i always dislike my writing.

It isn't as artful. You know what i mean, jelly beans? I cant make it right and proper anymore. So, i wrote this poem.

Legit, this poem is written from me to my man, so this book has a lot to do with my personal life. Though i will use different names and not every event is non-fiction.

Each poem will be written from my heart though.

Don't feel discouraged, i still want feedback. But try not to batter me too hard. Haha, just joking. I can take it.
I hope.

Anyways, i know i always write really short chapters but thats because i get tired of phone typing. And I'm sorry about that.

Oh right,

KEY:
Bold will be the guy, Kyrin
Normal will be the girl, Claire/ Lilly
Anything underlined is a poem no matter how fat the characters.

My letter will be down at the end, usually underlined and separated and centered but it doesn't count as a poem. ;)

Anyways; bye peeps!!
~Vi