Life of inadequacy By aldo kraas, www.PoetryPoem.com/poet11586 Unlock all Features - Upgrade to Poetry Prime
Inadequacy is the epitome of my identity
When I gathered the courage to swallow my heart and leave you behind, you snuck up again.
Instead of in the form of offerings of the false friendship I tried so hard to keep between us, it was in the form of betrayal.
You, myex boyfriend, dared to ask my best friend to go to prom with you and she, my love, my very source of smiles, my everything, dared to say yes.
She was your revenge, but why?
What did I ever do to get under your skin?
Ask to be treated like a human being,
like I was worth your attention?
It was you who crawled to me late at night cooing "Zannie, Zannie, you awake cutie?"
Some savior you are, how can you expect yourself to sweep a girl off her feet when they are planted firmly in the crusted cement of another heartbreak. Trust me Fabio, you ain't that suave.
You broke up with me once, but you dumped me plenty of times.
"Friends with benefits" you called it, yet you wouldn't let me be your friend and I sure wasn't reaping any benefits.
You got what you wanted, but I didn't, because you wouldn't let what we had be mutual.
It took me weeks of pleading to convince her to revoke the consent she gave you.
And I wasn't even the reason she eventually decided to.
She wasn't worried when I said I couldn't handle a friendship with her if your agreement stayed standing.
I could not and would not let myself dwell in such squalor.
Yet, now me and her are back at it again, like nothing happened.
No, I don't have a scar, instead I have an open, infected, festering, convulsing wound.
She was supposed to help heal me with her bright smile and dorky hilarity.
I don't believe I'll ever know what I mean to her, she has never spoken her mind about me.
Why are her emotions never articulated in words?
You say you've changed but I still see her ensnared in your trap, warped by your facade.
You can be nice, I've seen that side of you, why do you hide it from me now?
Seriously, tell me, what have you learned?
The lack of consequence is infuriating.
You get to lead me on for a year and a half, evoke my feelings to feed my need for fruitless attempts, cut the cord, then try to kidnap the one who provided me never-ending euphoria when you left, and left, and left?
Where's my revenge, my savior, my pay?
What do I get in return for all those nights spent either crying or taking pictures?
What you have lurking within you is an insatiable demon, and by definition, I couldn't keep it satisfied.
So I'll crawl back into the crevice I struggled for years to get out of.
With a new idea of her and even less respect for you.
For a long time I thought being nice would get me somewhere.
Maybe if I was more of a jerk I wouldn't get walked all over.
My throat is scorched from this fire I spit.
I'm sick of it, being so inadequate.
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