It Hurts

To know I’m under appreciated.

To know that I’m not the better choice.

To have a migraine.

To be standing on a fracture.

To be waiting for you, never to come.

To be forgotten by you, never to call.

To pretend that it doesn’t hurt.

To show that it doesn’t hurt.

To be alone.

To be afraid.

To be me.

To be you.

5 thoughts on “It Hurts

  1. All these things hurt but hurtful memories eventually pass.
    I don’t understand the “To be you” part.

  2. Cléa: We can’t always emulate other people in the hopes that their traits make us better people. Even if we grow to become better people, it hurts to be who they are.

  3. You just reminded my on one poem from Bukowski. Although they style is completely different, you two are saying the same thing.

  4. Sometimes the hurt just goes away and you’re left to wonder why you even cared in the first place. Other times, it’ll just keep being a dull, nagging pain. Either way, life goes on. 🙂

  5. Almost Loved: The price of being vindictive is that the pain burns on and the only thing you wonder at the end of the day is how you managed to survive all these years carrying that hurt.

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