Poems 'N' Shit About My Broken Heart

Maybe I'm made to be hurt

I have this theory.

This theory that maybe, in some cruel twist of fate, I'm made to be hurt.

Or maybe I'm just drawn to abusive people.

I mean, think about it.

First there was my mum.

Then my sister.

And my brothers.

And my cousin.

And then him.
You.
I never really got love, you know?
No one held me while I cried.
No one thanked me for holding the family together.
But you.
Oh, you gave me love.
Or at least you said you did.
And that, that was enough for me.
But not only did you love me when I needed it most,
You also abused me.

I went fifteen years of my life without realizing my mum was manipulating and abusing me.
I was so used to the constant correction and micromanaging that I craved that.

And he, he gave that to me.
You gave that to me.

Someone to manipulate me.
Someone to lie to me.
That was like kryptonite to me.
You drew me towards you like a moth to a light with nothing more than a couple lies of how you loved me.
How you wouldn't leave.
You did. You left.

Then came him.
I'm still struggling with that, as I type this.
He's still in my life.
I just get so weak when he gives me that look.
And he hugs me.
And he's so fucking beautiful.
But my friends say he's bad.
He's toxic.
He's you.

Now, you aren't reading this.
You aren't.
But I'll pretend you are.
Even though that wouldn't fix anything.
Because you knew what you did.
You wanted to do it.
You picked me because I was already broken.
I wanted someone to manipulate me, and you?
You wanted someone to manipulate.
Someone to hurt.
Someone to lie to.
Someone to make fall in love with you.
Someone to stand up for you.
Someone to think about you months after you left.

I'm doing it right now.
This wasn't supposed to be about you
but now it is.
You haunt my every thought.
My ever piece.
My art, my mind, my dreams, my tears.

Thanks, I guess, for helping me make beautiful art.
I'm sure it'll run out soon enough.
The inspirations
The hurt.
But don't worry, there'll be more muses.
More you's.

After all,
I'm made to be abused.