Relationships

BITTERsweet

Why should I be happy for him when I know she’s not even half of me?

Fuck her.

I miss the other half of me.

Fuck him.

He knew he was half of me.

how the fuck do you just give up & give someone else the other half of ME? 

Like we didn’t build this shit.

Like we became one on accident.

as if this happens everyday.

We got lucky. But your ungrateful ass threw it away like you could get it back.

Tell me where the fuck else you could find this at?

Tell me if you look at her and feel home.

Tell me if you look at her and feel lucky.

Tell me if you ask her to pray with you before you go to sleep?

Fuck her. She’s not even half of me. You knew you was half of me.

Tell me why you made me give up half of me?


Why should I forgive you?

Because it’s the right thing to do?

or it’s “for me?” blah blah blah.

Forgiving you won’t do anything because I’ll still be half empty.

So empty you can hear it.

You can hear the hollowness in my soul.

You can hear the echo of an old love song.

The emptiness so loud it’s embarrassing.

Telling the same old stories is embarrassing.

Feeling new feelings for old shit is embarrassing.

Feeling old feelings for gone shit is embarrassing.

Why should I forgive you? Because it’s the right thing to do?

More focused on getting you and winning you than forgiving you.

Not knowing if I get you and aint forgive you Im not winning shit.

except the same ole hollowness because you quick to quit.


No one warned me.

No one said, “Candice take baby steps cause big girl steps aint guaranteed”

No one told me that real love wasn’t guaranteed.

No one told me, “girl, if you love him. He’ll love you. Guaranteed.”

Because they knew they’d be lying.

What they should’ve said was love is for the lucky.

You know. The ones that always get everything they want.

The ones that know if they pray hard enough. cry hard enough. beg hard enough.

it’s theirs.

I’m not so lucky.

My knees bleed before I’m living my dreams.

My tears dry and I’m still empty handed.

& I never been the fucking begging type

but this mf actually had me type begging and I felt low but I would’ve eventually been okay

…if he would’ve stayed

and showed me sometimes pride taste okay

but no one warned me.

No one said real love wasnt guaranteed.


I’ve always been the big-hearted type.

The, “I want to make him better because I know he got it in him” type.

But what about me?

Why do I always forget I aint where I need to be?

I need someone on my team too.

Rooting for me.

Cheering for me.

Making me better.

But I’m quick to forget.

My needs come second because my babe needs me and well….

aint much you can tell a girl whose heart be skipping beats

at the simple shit like how he wanted to travel with me

doing nasty shit in Greece.

I’ve always been the big-hearted type. But Im quick to forget.

I need someone on my team too.


Don’t fucking call me bitter.

You never loved someone for the very first time

and they told you they loved you too

but the only way you could tell was if you fucking recorded them and pressed rewind

I love you.

I love…

I love you.

& you play that shit over.

and you make yourself believe it because otherwise this nigga is a fucking liar

you play that shit over.

because his actions speaking low.

or they just not saying shit at all.

but this is your very first time. This can’t go wrong.

No fucking way you gave your heart to the wrong person.

You in school. You on your shit. You far from a dumb bitch.

right?

No fucking way he could be a liar.

Don’t call me bitter.

You never loved someone for the first time and they told you they loved you too.

But the only way you could tell was if you recorded them and pressed rewind.


I’m still sweet.

Bitter is for the weak.

I was strong when I met you but Im stronger after.

You was my weakness.

Once upon a time, my reason to breathe.

When mommy left me and I needed a dream.

A reason to be.

She fucking left me and you was there before she could even really leave.

I attached myself to you like you was her.

Expecting a fucking mother’s love.

like you the one that gave birth.

Like you’ll come to my rescue for every bad thing.

Like you’ll love me more than anything.

and that’s a lot of pressure but I didn’t ask you to do a damn thing.

You was just someone I knew back from 6th grade who found out I had lost my world.

YOU volunteered to be the other half of me.

You volunteered to save me from me.

You volunteered to make life a little easier.

Then you gave up.

I was a handful but I loved you.

Your hands were full but I loved you.

I was weak and maybe you knew it.

My heart and soul was all I had.

I fucking loved you and you blew it.

But dont call me bitter.

Bitter is for the weak.

 


Thanks for reading!

 

 

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