I read your heartfelt poetry.
You wrote those words right over me.
Over all I knew myself to be.
You typed over my loyalty.

Your poems for her, Ive read them all.
I chase the pain with alcohol.
I was just your neverending brawl.
But you did not see what I saw.

I read all of those romantic spurts.
Of who means the most, who you put first.
I still love the part of you that hurts.
I read, as if for pain I thirst.

Oh, such creative writing skills.
Each line, each word, gives me the chills.
I cry, for milk that always spills.
Surpassing hurt... Poetry that kills.

I read your heartfelt poetry.
You wrote those words right over me.
Over all I knew myself to be.
You typed over my loyalty.

Each stanza speaks your loving truth.
With so much beauty, so much couth.
While spitting on my precious youth.
My vodka is 100 proof.

Yet, in my shot glass... just a tear.
For her, loving words endear.
And my wounds will never dissapear.
I'm sure thats what you want to hear.

I loved you hard. But all I see...
Is belittling what I used to be.
You were my treasure, Im your debris.
Such lovely poems... but not for me.