FOURTEEN

"We're Better Far Apart"
"We're Just Not Meant To Be"
"I wasted my time"
How is it possible that people **like** having as useful inventory but don't **value** us? How is that you can care for someone so much that they become the center of your world yet they spend a little more than a second on deciding whether or not you are of any value once the cause for which the played around with you has been met. How is that you expand so much affection towards them yet they are unable to reciprocate and always treat you like a backup plan or their second option.
This collection of poems is about wanting someone to be a part of your world once again but knowing that you're "Better Far Apart," and if together the only thing you will receive is emotional turmoil and sorrow on your part.