11:44 pm, Monday, 1st January
Perhaps I kept bitter memories of you alive in the words of my poems,
I kept your broken promises close to my heart,
in the hopes that they would still be kept.
I kept your sweet words alive within my mind –
replaying them like a broken record,
scratched and muffled.
I kept you alive because I continued to hold onto
foreign hopes that maybe you'd return,
paying no heed to the way I hurt myself emotionally in the process.
But I've realised that I am better off without you returning,
because I am in no need for you to reciprocate my previous adoration in regards to you.
I've found that I don't need you and I've accepted that from you there is no return.
And that's okay.
Because I'm okay without you. I'm still whole.
YOU ARE READING
dysphoria
Poetrysilent pleas from a heart that's been tainted blue, a mind that ripples in constant turmoil and a mouth that remains shut //
