Shame

I was thinking today that I didn’t love you, who you are. I loved you for who you represented. Because I didn’t really know you. I didn’t know you at all. I seriously have no idea who you are.

 

Today I was wondering, is there any difference in loving someone for what they represent and who they truly are? And I couldn’t really think of the difference.

 

If I had not come from the history I came from, I never would have fallen for you. Did I fall for you, or the solution I felt you represented?

 

I think the dynamic is perfectly clear. Crystal clear. Why I can’t loose you from my life and my mind is a fucking mystery that tortures me endlessly.

 

I think of how much I hate you, which is pretty big. It’s so big I want to make it go away with all my might, because it eats at me.

 

I want you out. You took years from me. Correction, I chose to let you take years from me. Shame on you. Shame on me.

 

Shame.

 

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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