My Poetry is You

Miss Myself

It's scary
Trying to talk to you
After all that we have gone through

It's unlike anything I have felt before
The fear of rejection
All over again

Would you bring out the past up again
Just to see me get hurt me
Would you do it to me, my dear?

But I did that to you,
so coldly
And I am begging you to forgive me for being that cruel to you

I used to think the best that could happen is getting shot in the head
That way you would not suffer a great deal before passing off
That is the best way to go

Then I realised what was happening here in my heart
Head, heart, they are all the same for poets

All this invisible blood pouring out
In the form of words, words I can't keep inside my head for I fear they would explode inside my head and I'd leave peacefully
I don't wanna go in the best way after all

All this air from my lungs that is being let out indefinitely somehow
And I can't feel myself breathing without total control over my chest and it is strenuous
I feel I may be suffocating while the pain is the sly reason why

And I like it
I seem to like the pain
Pain is my friend
And I feel My Dear Pain when I get nostalgic

I miss how we used to talk
I miss the lame jokes you would make that would never crack me up but I'd pretend to laugh out loud anyway

I miss telling you what is right and what is not
I miss telling you that I don't need advice but that I can give you good advice if you wanted me to
Because I liked being called wise and independent

I miss everything about you
I miss everything that you were
I miss everything that I was to you

I am starting to think maybe all I miss is myself, the person that I was capable of being to you, you, who were just another person.