He always makes you feel like this, he always builds you up to let you fall down, he always gives you so much hope, you feel fulfilled, you feel as if you're the chosen one,
you are the epitomy of everything great and glorious, you will experience love , you will be one of the lucky ones, you feel so much that you feel disoriented, overwhelmed,
not sure how to handle the gift that God placed into your life, not sure if you're good enough, ready enough for it.
Why do we let ourselves suffer?
you know he's gonna leave you bleeding, you know he's gonna be the hangover after the Gatsby party ,
you know he never cares as much as you do and he'll never see the beauty that lies within the depth of your eyes.
You don't see the beauty that lies beneath the depth of your eyes, you're punishing yourself for being the woman that you are, you love torturing yourself, you deny yourself happiness,
you don't feel like you'll ever be good enough for happiness, you think you are better off being the slave to his fantasies rather than the master of your dreams, you live for the pain,
you live for the highs he'll let you experience and you get off on the lows that made you wanna rip your skin off, he'll always be that weakness you can never get rid of,
you've tried not to talk to him, you've tried staying away yet it never really works, you abstain from everything that could ever make you forget him,
because in some way you've convinced yourself that he is everything you ever wanted and you are everything he's always wanted, you just focus on the way he makes you smile in his night calls,
and how he pays you an empty compliment here and there, you deny the moments he left you broken, falling apart, the moments where everything itched and you couldn't figure ,for the life of you,
how you bent your reflection for him and how he made you paralyzed by the pain he engraved in the back of your soul,
how the sound of his voice is the drug you never thought you needed and how his name is the only promise land you wanna live in.
You are beautiful, why don't you love yourself? why do you disappoint your purpose?
wake up and smell your mother's coffee, water and beans, the potion she made every morning, the perfume to her life, the one she drank, sitting,
sunrays hitting her hazel eyes and honey brown hair, she stirred the sugar into her cup, then she drank her poison, and let herself be consumed by it, you could see the wildness of her soul,
her untamable being, a woman, who made you a woman, the woman that never lets herself be consumed by life the way her mother was consumed by coffee,
the woman who forgot her name trying to find others, trying to find love, trying to find happiness, trying to find everything but herself, little did she know, she, herself,
is the embodiment of everything that is good and pure.