I am a lover of myself, though I am not faithful, nor loyal.
I have pushed myself away,
a dozen times,
for the sake of others,
who do not know love.
It is indeed, hard to love myself,
a person full of flaws, capable of making a million mistakes.
But to care about others, and not myself,
that hurts.
How do you push away the person who hurts you the most,
when it is you?
I'm a lover, who cheats.
For love is still inside me, ignored,
when I close my eyes, and turn away,
not wishing to see my own sight.
And it hurts to hate, to not care,
when I'm a victim of my own mistakes and thoughts.
Loving isn't easy, I've learned.
For you need to hold on, and forgive.
To trust, again and again,
when your own trust is what you broke.
Love causes a million silent tears,
and hope.
Somehow, I've learned how to love,
despite the learning being so hard.
I'm a lover, I assure you.
I love myself.
YOU ARE READING
The Ink Spilling From My Pen ✔
Poesia* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * The ink that spilled out of my pen formed these poetry. * ** * * * * * * * * * * ** ** * * ** * * ** * ** ** *** ** * * ** * * ** A random poetry collection that spill...
