I swore I'd never
Write when I was angry
Because these words
Aren't just my diaries
They are there
For the world to see
And for
You to see
But didn't I
Start this to cope?
So wouldn't it be more
Hypocritical to not write?
I guess I figure that
It's easier for you
To forget the
Bad sides of me
When they're
Not in writing
And besides
This isn't profound
This won't
Change your life
And it won't
Make you cry
At least not
In the good way
I know that
Venting or leaving
Aren't my
Only options
But I don't like
The in between either
Yet that has
Come to encompass
So much of
What this is
I am constantly in the
Confusing throws of limbo
Where fear, stress
Anxiety, and worry dominate
Do not misunderstand
My love
I do not
Say these things
To imply any
Fault of yours
You did not
Cause this
You would stop it
If you could
Such an odd
Idea though
Because if you
Could stop it
It wouldn't be
Worth fighting for
To add to
The irony
I ask for
Very little
But what I
Do ask for
Those few things
Are the few things
That I
Can't have
That you
Can't give me
At least
Not right now
So I'm
Left waiting
I didn't
Have patience
Before
You came
But you didn't
Have emotions
Crazy how we
Jerked these things
Out of
Each other
An exchange
We both needed
And never wanted
But wouldn't trade
For
Anything
Because somehow
Broken together
Seems to make more sense
Than whole apart
I guess we were never
Really whole before
We were just
Living in
The blissful throws
Of ignorance
Having no idea
We needed saving
