I wish I have had the courage to read my poetry to him
Maybe he would have reacted the way I thought you would. But I didn't. I couldn't, you left me too f****** broken to even try, and now I keep catching myself thinking if I should have, because he wasn't you, he was him.
With him I could talk about everything that was ever important to me, dance, art, books... and every time we did I healed a little bit more the bruises you left when you walked away. But even then it wasn't enough to stop the voice in my head telling me that I could not be happy without you
and I kind of hate myself for that.















