Thank You

I never wrote down how I felt.

In the moments it was blissful,

but also time consuming.

I tried,

like I always do and this time I do not know if it was me or them.

In the end it didn’t matter,

it came to an end,

like all good things.

But was it a good thing or was it simply a good lesson?

I don’t think I was ready,

but that’s okay,

we both weren’t.

I tried,

but my efforts overpowered the simplistic ideologies of what a relationship is.

I cannot fathom.

I cannot dwell.

Nor shall i reminisce because as I truly tell and believe,  

I am independent.

I need people,

just not one though.

I love the idea and the moments,

but what is the outcome of all the efforts?

Lost money. Stolen time. Wasted words. Hurt emotions.

That is the logical outcome.

The optimistic outlook was well spent.

Valued time. Beautiful lines of poetry. An emotional connection.

That is if it works,

but it won’t.

All good things come to an end.

I like to believe I am a good thing.

I like to think it and pretend it too sometimes.

But as Hobbes states,

humans are naturally cruel and wicked, and that I am.

Wicked to an extent.

cruel  to a point though.

A point that separates reality and realness.

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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