Always give them the benefit of the doubt…

I look into our past conversations,

And I feel like suffocating.

I wish I knew before, that the worst enemy

You can ever encounter

Is yourself. Your mind. Your eyes.

You play tricks on yourself.

And others get blamed for your blindness or your own manipulation to yourself.

And everyone suffers.

You tell yourself a story to justify your rage,

Your hurt, your feelings of betrayal,

When barely anything of that story is true.

The facts have been twisted for your own liking.

I look into our past conversations,

And I find my side of the story of how things went between us invalid and unclear.

Stop whispering

Ah Demon,

Leave my desires alone.

Let them run wild, without being touched

Without being thought of

Without calling out to them.

Don’t name them.

Don’t give then any identity

Just let them go and play around in my mind

With no red strings attached

To you.

Just keep me unaware of what they are,

Maybe I won’t long for you

For a change.

To the 4th of November.

One stage of getting over someone you loved is when you start convincing yourself how it wasn’t love and that it was just an illusion.

That stage of denial and the shoving away of memories into boxes and hiding them under a pile of mess.

Whether it’s a right or wrong method, it helps sometimes, and it’s helping at the moment.

May or may not be a glitch.

That’s why.

That’s why it’s difficult to pull away from your strings.

It isn’t simple love or too much of it

Or that I got used to the idea of you.

Something within me acknowledges the weight of your actions,

When I lacked expectations and hope,

And your efforts inspired me to believe in something greater than my circumstances..

A moment of weakness; A moment of wanting you back.

Please take it back,

Take it all away,

Tell me we have never been,

And we can never be.

Don’t take me apart

For someone else to figure out.

Love yourself more

And just kick me out of your sight

Allow me to hate the idea of you and I,

As I’m confused why there is no fucking us.

You go up the ladder, only to go down the snake.

That moment when you attempt to move on,

And you find a little ounce of happiness in something that has nothing to do with him..

And a faint voice inside you whispers back his name,

And asks you, “what about him? Did he move on?”

Then you mentally reply to yourself,

Convincing yourself that,

“He’s okay, he moved on, accept what’s happening right now, don’t look back”

But you find yourself with the phone on your ears,

Ringing,

And you’re waiting for someone to pick up…

Who am I calling?

Then you hear his voice.

And although that moment of happiness,

That moment of satisfaction was just about

to write a new chapter,

You’re back to a couple of chapters behind… revisiting those feelings,

Confused,

Doubtful,

But also relieved…

As you hear his stupid voice, that you love so much.

That you still love.

But wish you can just

Detach from.