Funny how we always end up here.
I fight the feeling to write about you, another sappy poem
about this love and lusting..nope. Not until
I check out your stuff and make sure that you are
writing about me too.
I’m always right, because I already knew that
and it isn’t right, but who am I..right? Just the
next name on your list of perpetrators, I suppose
that you are waiting for me to hurt you too, except my
hurt would consist of not accepting you while you drag
me down with you, my stability is always shaky now, but why?
who cares, though–because your easily concocted answer will
always be “well I didn’t ask you to”. True.
what the fuck am I doing?
I’m scratching my head in confusion,
is it my mind I’m losing?
My optimism escaping me.
I love you.
Do you even want me to?
maybe this is what Karma couldn’t wait to show me
My old chicks voices in my head saying
“one day Kymmie, your games will leave you lonely.”
Exactly where I am headed now, and that’s okay but my
heart won’t let me go in peace.
My questions wake me up at night, hoping that maybe you’d
give me some sort of recognition, maybe something saying
“You know I wouldn’t want to lose this.”
but that will never happen, because you’re too busy writing about your exes
checking your text messages
complaining about the date and time we had a conversation
On instragram straight flexin’ (lol)
Damn, girl, you are giving me no choice but to keep stepping
and trust me, that’d be something to lose..