PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Come to think of it (after spending hours reading back)

I remember the most beautiful thing is

forgiveness.

I come to realize, I am a good writer.

And I remember that I am not afraid of you, my first love,

that which I spent and spend so much time

thinking of.

I remember you loved me,

its ok that you don't love me now, but I will not believe

you feel disgust for me,

because you deny my friend request and leave me

no words to stop my brain from overanalyzing things.

I am not crazy.

You called me a thousand times, haha,

you wanted me in your pants night after night,

in part you felt the same as me

fully

even if its all atoms and wind now.

I cannot fear you, I cannot resent you, I am forgetting myself.

I must be stronger.

The time when I my words are the most beautiful is when

they truly remember your love for me, and not get

wrapped up in longing,

i think i've been addicting to longing since I was a small child.

No, its ok, come, read, see how my mind flows crazy

colors on the ceiling away from you,

you have to know i am my own person,

i have experienced more than i could have predicted

since you left,

and i know you have too, and i know you loved me once.

its getting harder as time goes on,

to not put words in your mouth about what you think of me

these days.

this is silence.

this is silence, and i must remember music.

Know, I forgive you, I want the best for you,

I am trying my hardest to be the values I wanted for myself.

I come to realize (after hours of reading back)

I am more than sane, I am beautiful, smart, hard,

cold, trying, fighting for myself, and winning.

I trust myself these days, and I am alone.

It was a hard weekend and I wanted to look at your pictures

and feel you shun me.

But I won't, boy, I love you, its twelve fifty three

this february of hail, three years later and

i will return, calm, to the page, in first person

and

tell you

im sorry.