I write my best poetry when I’m drunk or in love
Right now, I am definitely at least one of those things and, unfortunately, have the potential to be the other. In any case, here’s a poem about love or something:
Hey, if I accidentally end up not getting over you,
shoot me in the fucking heart.
You heard me.
Take out a .32 and just go ham.
It takes absolute rejection for me to move on.
Fuck, I don’t even know who the fuck I’m writing to anymore—
Anyways, you really deserve someone who makes you so happy.
You deserve someone who can see all the goodness in you.
You are good.
Good at loving people.
Good at making people want to love you back.
Good at being completely and utterly you, which is all anyone can really ask for, anyways.
Just listen to me, okay? You are good enough; certainly for me.
But I think I’ve come to terms with the fact that I may never be good enough for you.