Born to love, cursed to feel.

Perhaps the year and a half spenttrying to make sense of all this has finally drained meMaybe, just maybe, I always know I deserved better, but was too afraid to accept it

Dear . . .You’re the poem I couldn’t finish The journey I should have never started I saw tragedy in our ending My pen bled its heart out trying to change it But you were the fight I didn’t want to lose The addiction I didn’t want to quitYet there was only one of us holding on I wasn’t attached to the man you areBut the one you could be I tried to build where there was no foundationCreate a fairy tale on blank pages But some stories need not be told, let alone written You’ll read my words and won’t be moved Your arrogance will not soften You won’t be changed Your heart, if you should have one, will not bend or break The worst part of it all Is this poem is about you and you’ll never even know it