kbreinich

Hurricane

I will tell you about selfish people.

 

Even though they know that they will hurt you,

they walk into your life to taste you,

because you are the type of person

they don’t want to miss out on.

 

You have too much shine,

not to be felt.

 

And when they’ve gotten

a good look at everything

you have to offer.

 When they have taken

your hair, your skin, your secrets with them.

When the realize how real this is,

how much of a storm you are

and it hits them.

 

That’s when the cowardice sets in.

 

That is when the person

you thought they were

is replaced by the sad reality

of what they actually are.

 

You will stand there, naked

with half of them still hidden somewhere inside you,

and sob.

 

Asking them why they did it.

Why they forced you to love them,

with no intentions of loving you back.

 

They’ll say something along the lines of,

“I just had to try.”

“I just had to give it a chance.”

 

But that isn’t romantic,

That isn’t sweet.

 

The idea that they were so engulfed

by your existence.

That they had to risk breaking it

for the sake of knowing,

that they weren’t the one missing out.

 

The nerve. 

 

Your existence meant that little,

next to the curiosity of you.

 

That’s the thing about selfish people.

They gamble entire beings,

entire souls.

Just to please their own.

 

One second they are holding you

like the world in their lap.

and the next, they have belittled you.

 

To a picture. 

To a mere second.

Something of the past.

 

They swallow you up,

and tell you they want to spend

forever by your side.

 

But the moment they sense fear,

they’re already halfway out the door.

Without having the nerve

to let you go with grace.

As if the human heart

means that little to them.

 

But why should I be sad?

The only thing I lost

was someone who didn't love me. 

 

Sometimes I still think about you.

But I will cut off my hand

before I ever reach for you again.

 

This is the downfall

of having a good heart.

I constantly search,

for angels, inside of demons.

 

And I wonder why the good

knows so much pain.



To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.