I want to tell you that I still hurt
and I still miss you.
But it won’t change a thing.
You still don’t want to know me.
No one wants to know me.
I don’t remember how this all began.
How did I become so unforgivable?
I don’t remember where I went wrong,
But I know that I did this.
I know that it’s my fault
that no one wants to know me.
I wish you wanted to know me.
I am not perfect.
I am not special.
I know that now.
I did not know that for a while.
I thought I was beautiful,
memorable.
But now I know,
I am ordinarily average.
I will not fool myself again into thinking that I am more.
I am a woman.
A woman that you brand a whore.
So you don’t wish to know me any more.
I am a woman.
And I know now
I am not special.
I am just like every other who has entered this world.
And when I leave.
What will the world be missing?
Nothing.
I am nothing.
You are nothing.
Sometimes I forget that.
I get caught up into thinking that you are so much more.
I pine for your attention but you ignore.
Because you don’t want to know me any more.
You are human.
Like me,
You are made of flesh and bone.
You are nothing.
You will always be nothing.
You will die.
You will be forgotten.
As will I.
As will everyone I have ever loved.
Everyone who has ever hurt me.
I don’t remember how this all began.
But maybe this is why I am so unforgivable?
I grip so tightly to my darkness.
And I know that I did this.
I know that it’s my fault
that no one wants to know me.
I wish you got to know me.