It's the pain in your voice,
When you talk about her,
The jaded venom,
That you spew when asked,
About what happened,
Between you two.
It's the way you talk,
About you,
Loving her,
Imperfections and all.
Unconditionally.
And I knew not to get involved,
With you.
And I knew I'd get hurt,
by you,
Even if it's not on,
Purpose.
It's the fact that I'm not her,
I never will be,
I'm only me,
And I don't think,
You want that.
It's the same old feeling,
Of not good enough.
Friendship,
Status,
Only.
And I am heartbroken,
By mistake,
And I find myself,
With tears,
And I catch myself falling so hard,
I'm going to smack the ground.
It's sad that I'll always be,
Second best,
To you,
Never good enough,
For priority,
It's my own fault for wearing,
My heart on my sleeve,
For loving,
You,
Too freely,
It's ok to step back,
And breathe,
It's necessary to designate,
My energy.
It's ok to not love,
so hard.
And I will live with the pain that I will never be her for you. That I was always second to your needs and what I do with my time is unimportant and therefore unacknowledged. It hurts you know, that deep down, dig at the walls of you heart, kind of pain. Am I just a rebound chick? Only necessary until you get your mojo back? Do I risk everything just to be second best? Ugh I hate these feelings of uncertainty and degradation.
