I always wondered what it would be,
to sit up late,
maybe until three and ask you
‘what does love mean?’,
but you won’t answer,
and although it seems fine…
we’ll never be that word.
I used to think that love was real,
but then I saw you cry that day
I told you I loved someone
else.
Maybe it was okay because I thought
I was protecting you,
but they never told me this in school.
The foolish part is that I
know you never belonged to me
anyway.
You were always meant to
be with
someone
else.
The vodka used to taste so bitter
when it was taken from a bottle
that wasn’t mine.
I did this time and time again,
and I never realised where
I went wrong.
I could write you a song,
I could create you a poem,
but it will never replace
her.
I know she doesn’t even care,
because she talks about
how hipster she is now,
and how Tumblr is her
‘god’.
Though dear lord,
I have watched her smoke at the
back of church,
and seen her curse the heavens
above.
I made her shove her
feelings down her throat
and swallow them
whole.
I was like a small
mole which just became
bigger.
Constantly creating havoc
in the body,
wondering how I could change
her mind.
I was so unkind.
Maybe I’m sorry, but then
I remember I’m not.
I always want to wake you at
three,
and ask why you chose me.
Though you never chose me,
you wanted her,
I was just a monster
in human
skin.
LegallyFierceFeminist 