I loved you.
I thought your eyes were windows,
in a house that held you soul.
I wanted to desperately to be whole again
that I saw all of these glorious things behind them.
I started to throw pebbles
at your door, begging for entry.
But little did I know, that the signs
of your affection would appear
as bruises on my skin.
I failed to notice that your curtains
were drawn so tight.
And it was just the light simply
playing tricks on my eyes.
You became this reflection
of who I wished you would be.
With a perfect personality,
and a life that would make mine better.
But your window shattered.
And I finally got a glimpse into your room.
I found a completely different person,
nothing like the man I pretended you were.
I knew that I loved you,
when I started to make excuses
for the ways you hurt me.
I was so captivated by the
charming man I thought you were,
that I neglected to notice the locked doors.
But how can you love someone
who leaves behind bouquets of black eyes?
Was there a smile on your face
when I called you, begging you to stay.
Are you satisfied knowing that you broke
the unbreakable girl?
Did it stroke your ego to know
you had that much power over a person?
Or did it sicken you to the core?
I guess there’s no way of knowing.
Because as it turns out,
I never really knew you at all.
But I don’t love you anymore.
Not like I used to.
Time will heal me.
Maybe not completely,
but to the point where it only hurts
on the bad days.
And I’m going to try to only
have a few of those.
Maybe I am everything.
And he just isn\'t enough.
It’s not always my fault.