B I P O L A R

I don’t know what’s worse, that I’m giving up or you’re letting me give up.

I’m screaming at the person in the mirror, but she’s not listening. I’m afraid she’s given up.

Doesn’t matter how well you think you know someone. You will never truly know them.

It’s ironic how our hearts can still get hurt by something we’ve seen coming.

I don’t know how it would happen. Maybe it would be something small that makes you snap. Or maybe you would see someone and think, why have her when I can have this? I don’t know how it would happen. But every goddamn day, when your silence stretches just a little too long, I wonder if it will finally happen. If you’ll give up on me.

You’re worth a handwritten letter, a random trip at night to the beach, a painting that says more than a thousand words.