I’m bad at relationships.

It’s true.

I suck at showing emotion

And giving attention

And growing close to people like..


I guess.

And when I say “people like you”

I’m just referring to the male species.

No offense.

No offense,

While we’re talking about offense,

Remember the time

She told me I was no good for you.

She told me…

No offense, of course..

That I’m just basically, like, worthless.

I guess…

And then remember when

You sat beside me

With my hand in yours

And you told me

You don’t understand

Why you’re not good enough for me,

And all I could manage to do was stare,

Straight ahead,

As you cried,

And I just thought if I died…

Everything would be okay..

That you’d finally see,

How bad you were hurting me.

Of course,

You were the only one hurting…

You were hurting so bad,

Because you couldn’t understand

Why I couldn’t see

How a guy who was cutting himself

Was just somehow only using me.

And you said he was just looking for attention,

Which, no offense, right?

But was I just looking for attention too?

As I cut into my own skin,

Was I just using you?

But you loved me,

Didn’t you?

You loved me so much…

Everyday you told me such.

You said

“Baby, all I need is you.”

“Why can’t you just need me too?”

And you know…

I knew what it meant to be dating you…

I only had eyes for you…

But as long as I had male friends…

You know what,

I can see where “whore” came from too.

I guess.


That brings us here,

This one unforgettable time,

When you called me a whore

And convinced my friends I was one too.

Of course,

No offense was taken,

Because honestly,

What else could I have been to you?

But I’ll never forget the messages that were sent..

“Why do you have to be such a whore.”

From a dear friend.

“Dude, he’s hurting.”

“Why do you have to do this to him?”

With no friends,

And a boyfriend I couldn’t understand,

I had nowhere to put these things,

No way to express my feelings,

Except through the tearing of once

Very beautiful,


I mean,

I was only up until 2 In the morning

begging for a breath or a few.

Maybe a friend or two.

Sometimes holding a razor

To cut out whatever made my throat so tight.

But who are we kidding?

Am I right?

I was just a liar,

Just messing with you.

But you loved me,

Didn’t you?

You loved me

so I tried to love you back too.

And I loved as hard as I could,

For as long as my heart would.

I tried to be good enough,

But trying is never enough

For someone like…


I guess.

And when I say someone like you…

I’m not talking about the male species anymore.

I’m talking about someone already broken

And confused

And unsure of how to love an already broken me.

Someone who’s been used

And dumped

And abused

And consumed by thoughts of

Past cheaters

And liars

And whores—

And everything else you said I was being…

I guess.

Not that I should be the one to talk.

I mean,

There’s always a little truth

Behind those nasty words…


If it stings,

There’s a reason.

I guess.

I mean,

I could be wrong.

I’m wrong all the time.

But you deserve someone

Who can be enough

And give enough

Without feeling paper thin.

You deserve someone strong enough

And loving enough—

Someone who will never leave you feeling…





And alien.

You deserve so much more than you gave.

So much more than I was able to give.

You deserve a lifetime of love.

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