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CH

If you don't learn to write your own story, someone else will write it for you

220 poems·Since March 2016

Everyday must be its own

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What's it to you?

March 13, 2016

I'm sure you don't want to claim me,

now that I turned out to be your polar.

I'm sure you spit venom behind my back,

now that I don't need you.

 

It's funny how I feel the same,

but why so much hate?

Just let it go and live,

because I already did.

 

But I shouldn't be saying that,

I haven't forgotten.

I still find myself wanting,

to please and to live for you.

 

But what's the point?

You never look at ME.

I finally see that I looked blindly at the Ground,

thinking it was the Sun.

 

Now I know better,

but let me ask you one last thing,

So what's it to you?

What's me to you?

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