coffee. cigarettes. daydreams.

a letter to my first love who never tried to love me better

I want you to hide me like the way you hide your little note in your pocket. I want you to keep me in a way im only yours, in ways that people wonder about me, and in ways that you know you are for me as much as i do think that I am to you.

But maybe you've come to realisation that maybe i was too much or too less. I was only a set of words that taught you what it felt like to be loved, and loving you was as sloppy as my handwriting. Or maybe you have become someone who kept me with open arms asking for more and more of myself because you wanted to take ahold every single bit of me that Ive become a prisoner of my own thoughts and solitude. I've become a puppet of your own show - where an egoistical boy forces a poor and an emotionally abused girl to love him. You held me up above hell and threatened to burn every inch tattooed on my being if I did not show the attention that you wanted and I allowed that because i thought that maybe you'd love me then.

Maybe you were just careless.
Maybe you were just careless.
Maybe you were just careless.
Maybe you were careless -and hell I like to believe that.

But it didn't matter to me because
All I wanted was for you to love me then
All I wanted was for you to need me then
All I wanted was for you to want me then
- With all I had and done.

Months and years have passed and I still think about you. You're in for a long ride with a one way ticket till my very last breath on my death bed is exhaled. You'll become a story that I will tell to my future children and grandchildren. You'll be the very reason why they'll be more confused on what would love be, because i myself still am. You'll be in my thoughts forever, because you were my first love and you'll always be no matter how shit of a first love you are.

This will be the only way I could ever call you mine forever - even if ended this way,

You will always be.