there is a choice to be made here
a crossroads, if you will
and i very much do,
thank you
i can either keep beating
the dead horse of what
you did to me
or, what,
forget you?
like how you made me feel
when we first met and the cliche of
this boy is gonna break my heart
so i better break it first
ran through my head
isn’t it funny,
dearheart,
the lies we tell ourselves?
but you lied to me, too
in more ways than one, and
the coercive and manipulative man
i spent five (miserable) months with
was not the kind artist i
really could have fallen in
love with
i don’t care what happened
to that version of you anymore
because melancholy and remembering
do me no good
you taught me a lesson
unintentional though it may have been,
that flowery words and pretty poems
don’t mean anything without actions
to back them up
you knew just the right way
to break down my walls
to make me feel safe and loved
and i won’t forgive you for that
but i will forgive you
for enough
to forget