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Jamie

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

15 poems·Since June 2013
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Why Him?

July 1, 2013

His name hurts me to say.

Bradley.

I once loved saying the name. It gave me little butterflies and my heart stopped.

Now, it hurts. It makes me mad. It makes me sad.

I love him.

I hate him more.

I miss him.

I'm glad he's gone.

I want him back.

I don't ever want to speak to him again.

I want to text him and tell him how much I miss him.

I want to text him and tell him how much I hate him.

Some nights I long for the hours we'd spend talking.

Some nights I curse his name and say "Fuck him".

I hope to run into him somewhere, hoping he'll see me and realize his mistakes.

I hope to run into him somehwere, hoping he'll see how happy I am without him. 

I hate him so much. But I can't help but love the bastard. 

Why him? 

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