It has taken me too long to acknowledge that you will never acknowledge me.
This ought to be selfish I know. I want it to be. I’ve searched for you in the places I might never say aloud, For this to say, I didn’t mind the profanity that came with your mean hands on my hips.
There are boxes I have never opened that still heave under my bed hopelessly, I’ve run scissors over people’s hearts just because I was terrified of them running. Look let’s be honest for once, the only thing we were good besides fucking was always fucking things up. Your mouth is still flushed like ripe Strawberry, always tender, dripping, so so hungry. And I’m afraid, so afraid that I’m too much of you now. And not enough of myself.
I need to let you go not because I don’t love you but because I ought to love myself a little more// 3 AM Poetry
By @poeticsania

















