i hate that so much poems are about you
i hate that i waste my time writing about you
confessing it all with 26 letters
i hate the fact that you will never read these words of mine
that you will never read the sorrow and pain between the lines
that you will never read the disgust and hate between the lines
and i hate myself for hating you for being happy with her
when i am here all by myself
all the negativity is crawling out of me and i want to puke and spit it out
and leave it on the floor forever but it decided to stay for longer and i put
fingers in my throat and tried to enforce it to come out and let me live
but it is a bastard
a stubborn bastard
alive to kill me
or rather to kill the feelings ive left for other people
i should stay strong in these times
especially in these times
but the thought of you keeps me awake at night
and keeps me fantasizing about what we could have been but are not
you keep me laying in the bed with eyes half open
not dreaming at all
and if i do i do not dream about you
but you are the thought that makes me want to get back into my bed
i am indeed thankful for whatever power is up there that it did not enable me
to dream of you
otherwise id become crazier from time to time