I write your name
within the lines of my frame.
I forced you into my ideal,
but it was far from what is real.
The words I say
slowly pull us away.
The things I do
end up breaking you too.
So it was best for us not to stay.
I love you,
not in the way lovers do.
My ocean runs blue;
I am hurting too.
I have baggage to work through.
I should’ve known our love was never meant to bloom,
and here I am, standing alone in my room.
