Ignored // writings

35

Dear (insert name here),
I'm not putting your name in here. I wouldn't want to make this poem more depressing than it's already going to be.
It has to be a talent, being you. A super power. No, a curse maybe. Because who would want to posses anything that relates back to you? Right?
Is it hard? Waking up in the morning and realizing that you're you? It must be. It's definitely hard waking up and realizing that I actually let you in. That I let your slimy self penetrate my sturdy walls only for what? Nothing? Pitiful really.
Can you see it? The destination your headed towards. Is it everything you've every imagined? Is she there? Am I not?
When you said you'd never leave, did you mean until you didn't need me anymore?
When you said you loved me, did you mean you loved the way I unselfishly dragged you out of a pit I was sinking in myself so you could breathe? Did you love the way I made you feel but not really me?
When you told me you were going through really rough things that you couldn't explain to me, was there really something to break you? Was it all a lie?

Was this all a lie?

I.r.g.
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