It’s easy to mistake the first time as love.
Because no one finds “the one” in the first try,
if so then you are a lucky bitch.
Others have to go through hell and meet
every single asshole in the dating pool
before finally meeting the 1% of people
where there are mutual interests.
Or you can play the waiting game
and see what fate will bring you.
Maybe you said you loved me too soon,
maybe you only think you love me
because I honestly see nothing
you could love about me.
I am broken, jagged pieces
and I’m not a puzzle
you could easily piece together.
How can you love someone damaged?
You have to constantly fix me
or try to at least
and then you’ll get tired.
You will get tired of my mess;
I’m this mess of a person you chose to love.
It’s not even love, I’m sure it’s not.
I’d like to believe it’s not love
because if it was it would be short lived
and depressing.
We have an expiration date trust me,
this won’t last forever.
Dear Juliet 