It was my mistake,

Loving you,

When you didn’t want to be.

To feel unneeded,

To not be cherished in return,

Felt like a slow death.


See sometimes all I have,

against the violent storm that rages inside of me,

Is my love.

It is the only thing that I can control,

and unleash safely on others,

When I am full of clouds and lashing rain.


But this love,

Has made me sick.

And I am stuck within this prison,

That neither of us chose,

And my heart breaks; Heaving,

Wrapped around the bars,

And you walk free.

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