I never used you,
though you used me.
I kept you safe and warm,
though you kept me cold and lifeless.

I helped you achieve your dreams,
though you only crushed mine.
I believed in you,
though you only believed in me when it benefited you.

You always wanted me,
though sometimes I couldn't give you what you wanted.
You relied on me to fix your problems,
though sometimes they were too impossible.

You thought that I'd always be there for you,
though I have others to be with just as you.
You assumed that I wasn't on your side,
when I never left it to begin with.

You abused me till there was almost nothing left,
you got stronger every time you used me.
You were frail and broken at first,
but I made you happier with each beating.

I live to see people happy,
to give them a chance to improve in life.
So I will gladly take your pain away,
and place it upon myself.

to the girl
whose golden heart
was never tarnished
despite the afflictions
the world allowed her
to experience somehow;
♡ — i hope your heart stays the same
and will always be aflame
for the things you love doing
because dear, you are amazing.

to the girl
whose illustrious mind
was never obscured
even if she was aching;
♡ — i hope you realize
that you are impressively splendid
more than any could ever poetize
and that your feelings are valid.

to the girl
whose beautiful soul
never stopped blooming
like flowers in the spring
despite the adversities
she has encountered;
♡ — everything you do
is always appreciated;
and your existence
is a tremendous blessing
and adds vibrance
to this somber world.

i wrote you
a letter every day
letters to tell you
just how i feel

written in neat, curved
writing i told you
just how sweet
i thought you were
how you made my heart
glow

letters in which i wrote
with various colors of ink
pouring out my whole being
to you

i wrote you
a letter every day.

i wrote you letters in which
i told you how you made me
bloom.

eventually
i found myself
pressing harder on
the paper
than i had before.

creating tears in them
similar in shape
and size
as the ones
inside of me.

i began to send
letters
with creases
and bumps
and stains
splattered with tears

pouring
from my eyes

as i wrote
the anger
bubbling within me.

my last letter
addressed to you
contained
no words

but was blank.
because
i had none that

could reach
as far

and deep

into the cracks
of my
heart

to describe
just
what you

had left
of me.

The poet lives two lives.
One on the outside,
And one in their mind.

When you look in their eyes
You could see an abyss.

If you looked long enough
You could sink into it.

But most people don’t see it.

Take the time to read the words, though,
And you would know for sure.

The poet lives in two different worlds.