Why do I not feel happy for them, if they are filled with joy?
I can only think that it’s because I wanted that selfish pleasure to be mine.
I won’t lie to myself, I owe myself that much.
Some things will never change, my insufferable yet beautiful passion one of them.
The goosebumps run down my arms and I shiver with the thought of you.
But you are not mine to hold, not mine to lose anymore.
It’s only now that I realize, your joy was my bliss only when your world was mine.
Crumpling, no longer resolute, never resolute with you, without you.
To look inward and face the truth, it’s not really love for you, is it?
How can I love you, if it’s just for the high it gives me?
That must be the truth they see in me, the soul behind the shell;
The me I didn’t know was there.
This love isn’t killing me…the struggle inside is.
Can’t let you go, not strong enough; can’t win your heart, not good enough.
They were all right, I am alone…I cut myself off, even as I reached out.
It didn’t have to be this way, but I brought it about.
I won’t lie to myself…I’ve made a grand mess of things.
Tell me I’m immature, that I’m delusional, that I’m dramatic…
That the storm will pass, that it will be nothing years from now.
I know you’re right. We’re specks of dust in a stream of time.
But it means everything to me. What you gave me, was happiness.
Thanks for reading, and have a great day