I wish I could write about love.
I wish I could be the Artist that fills pages with blissful imagery of intimate feelings.
But, I can only write about the lasting residue my heartbreaks have left behind.
My mind isn’t dark, but love isn’t the light that overpowers my thoughts.
The He’s are more interesting to write about.
They are easier to discuss.
I can go on and on about how foolish I was into believing your lies.
I can rant about how I always think the next one will be different.
But, you can relate to the pain.
I want to be strong and move on.
I really do.
The agony of my heartbreaks keeps me afloat.
They give me purpose.
I wish I could write about love.
Instead I fill my pages with rich imagery of loves’ torture.
You can relate to that.
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