It's been fucking months since I've thought about you.
Or wondered how you're doing.
Months since I've had any feeling toward you at all.
But here I am,
And for the life of me,
I can't figure out why I wasn't ever fucking enough for you.
Why was it always me choosing you?
Why did you never choose me?
Why did you hurt me so many times and why did I fucking let you.
You never fucking deserved that.
You never deserved me.
But why didn't you want me.
What could I have done, or been that was so fucking bad?
That was never good enough for you?
Seriously why wasn't I good enough.
I've been good enough for everyone that was before you and for everyone that was after you but for some fucking bullshit reason you and your narcissistic personality thought you were better than everyone. And obviously you couldn't stand the thought of being with someone like me.
Someone who's actually going to do something with her life besides stay in the shitty small town I grew up in and manually comatose myself to numb my feelings.
I'm not you, I guess.
I don't even know what the point of this is. I don't have feelings for you anymore, of that I have no doubt.
But I do have anger when I'm left to my thoughts and they somehow drift to you. You piss me the fuck off.
You hurt me in ways I could never imagine. I've never had my heart broken in as many ways or as painfully as when you did it.
And I fucking let you do it. Anything to make you feel better because my dumbass was in love with you. Only fucking god knows why.
But that's not the point.
The point is; I did everything for you. I tried to be everything for you. Whoever you wanted on any given day and for some fucking reason I was never enough.
And now that I'm separated from the situation, and from you, I deserve a fucking explanation.
If you can give me one good reason as to why I was never enough, I'll forgive you. If not, then I'll forget you.
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YOU ARE READING
From My Mind To Your Pages
PoetryI have to get the words out of my head sometimes. This is a completed work of 9 years worth of writing about the boy I was in love with. 9 years of expressing my emotions in written form. 9 years of him reading every word and treating me like shit a...