Roses And Thorns (UNDER HEAVY EDITING)

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- I made you my poetry.

As I explored a life without you, I found solace in poetry and music, I found my voice through art. It felt like I couldn't make sense of the raging emotions and numerous thoughts inside of me until I channeled them through these things. 

It made me wonder at some point, knowing that heartbreak was the only inspiration for my art, whether I was blessed or cursed with this new-found skill. I tried to understand everything that happened to me, at the price of making you permanent in my art. 

It felt like a double edged sword, how the healing process meant you were the center of my artistic universe, how your last chapter in my life was my first chapter as a writer. 

I found meaning in the one thing that allowed me to express my anger and frustration, but you were my source of anger and frustration. You were my sense of purpose, and life without you didn't have meaning for so long. I knew the fear of losing you would be my downfall. 

As I faced my fear, I kept myself sane through my art, it gave my life a new sense of purpose. You found it easy to abandon me, just as easy as I found it to write about you.

You didn't deserve to me the main character in every chapter I wrote, and yet words were pouring out of me effortlessly, needing to be let out and processed in any way possible. I had to avoid talking about you all the time, and pretend that I was okay every day, so it only made sense for me to need that catharsis. 

You were the perfect muse, the broody, handsome and mysterious boy that turned my life upside down in the worst way possible. You never deserved to be a part of my poetry, yet you starred in it. 

Sometimes I wondered if one hidden reason behind writing about you might've been that I wanted to make you unforgettable, so that years from now, I still wouldn't forget you.