I’m finally ready to admit I’m angry.

For the last two years I’ve been resisting,
I’ve denied
I’ve pushed it down so deep, that it’s now split through

This was going to be a letter about how I was ready to be the bigger man.
To admit that I was angry at myself, not at
To take the high road: Where I let you carry the burden.
Where I admit that I let this slide into the abyss as much as you did.

I’m not ready for that.

I’m angry.
At You.
I’m angry at

For all the broken promises.
For the false sense of hope.
For the time
after time
after time
after time

The time after time that I was lead to believe there was something to be salvaged, in this

It’s eggshells
Always eggshells
Every single time we talk because
You don’t want to hear about how you’ve given up.
And you can’t piece it back together,
Piece after
Piece after
Piece after
They’ve all been stepped on so many times.

Your audacity is only matched by:
Your resolve.
Your resolve to leave,
Leave me
Leave me hanging
Leave things in disrepair

And I
I can’t deny my feelings

Love I’ve found
In the arms of someone who can
Hold me tight.
Tight and strong.
Stronger than
YOU are.

Stronger than your stubbornness
Stronger than your will to carry
Carry the burden of
Our combined failure.




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