T2CRTV

[tshepo2crtv]

1 misunderstanding and im using it

[tshepo2crtv]

You gotta take a few steps back for this one

[tshepo2crtv]

Peep it closer

[pussymargiela]

[tshepo2crtv]

Hello, you got a money for me?

[tshepo2crtv]

Why Me?

I thought we broke

because I was insecure—

a word small enough

to hide the truth inside.

The truth was

you were beautiful

in a way the world notices,

and I was average

in the way the world forgets.

I lived like you were temporary,

like any day someone richer, lighter,

less tired by life

could tap you on the shoulder

and you’d finally see

what I already feared.

I imagined a man

who didn’t count dollars,

didn’t carry obligations in his chest,

someone with soft hands

and endless compassion—

someone easier to love than me.

So I stopped worrying about *them*

and started interrogating *myself*.

When I couldn’t find answers,

I searched your face for them

like you owed me proof.

“Why me?” I asked,

as if three months meant nothing,

as if you hadn’t stayed

when leaving was always an option,

as if choosing me

hadn’t already been your answer.

You said,

“How can you love someone

who doesn’t love themselves?”

And I said

patience.

communication.

But what I meant was:

I didn’t know how yet.

I hoped you could teach me.

I hoped love could substitute

for the work I was afraid to do alone.

Now I see it clearer—

you weren’t asking for perfection,

you were asking for ownership.

Not of you.

Of me.

And maybe love isn’t reassurance

borrowed from someone else’s belief,

but the courage

to stand still

[tshepo2crtv]

Why Me?

I thought we broke

because I was insecure—

a word small enough

to hide the truth inside.

The truth was

you were beautiful

in a way the world notices,

and I was average

in the way the world forgets.

I lived like you were temporary,

like any day someone richer, lighter,

less tired by life

could tap you on the shoulder

and you’d finally see

what I already feared.

I imagined a man

who didn’t count dollars,

didn’t carry obligations in his chest,

someone with soft hands

and endless compassion—

someone easier to love than me.

So I stopped worrying about *them*

and started interrogating *myself*.

When I couldn’t find answers,

I searched your face for them

like you owed me proof.

“Why me?” I asked,

as if three months meant nothing,

as if you hadn’t stayed

when leaving was always an option,

as if choosing me

hadn’t already been your answer.

You said,

“How can you love someone

who doesn’t love themselves?”

And I said

patience.

communication.

But what I meant was:

I didn’t know how yet.

I hoped you could teach me.

I hoped love could substitute

for the work I was afraid to do alone.

Now I see it clearer—

you weren’t asking for perfection,

you were asking for ownership.

Not of you.

Of me.

And maybe love isn’t reassurance

borrowed from someone else’s belief,

but the courage

to stand still

[tshepo2crtv]

[tshepo2crtv]

[tshepo2crtv]

Art is life... my life

[tshepo2crtv]

How do you grow your account on Tumblr?

[tshepo2crtv]

SMNYMA TEE

$100

#clothing

[tshepo2crtv]

SMNYMA TEE

$100

#clothing

[tshepo2crtv]

"I miss my ex" tee

$100

[tshepo2crtv]

"I miss my ex" tee

$100

[tshepo2crtv]

"Simplified politics" article by matabo art by me

Posting the Full article on the 30th of jan

[tshepo2crtv]

"Simplified politics" article by matabo art by me

Posting the Full article on the 30th of jan