I don’t have a name for this one yet

I spent so much time writing about you and when I became real all my words came off the page and came to life
I wrote out all these emotions I couldn’t tell you and when I finally could you didn’t want them
I’m not hurt I’m not mad
I came to the terms with wrong timing which is what I’ve been saying for the last year
A phrase I’ve said over and over
Until my hands bled from gripping a pencil too tight
I’ve glamorized my emotions on paper and let them swirl in my head
Along with all the songs i sang when I thought of you
And a year later they’ve turned to sad songs and poems I didn’t want to read back to myself anymore
I’ve always yearned for this feeling so I can put it into words
This isn’t how I wanted them
My manic mood mixed with my depressive writing was too much for you
I get that
Not everyone is a trophy model for my words
Or a trophy kid for the happiness
But we try our best to make it work
Sip my coffee slow while my head spins and fills with heat
Just like when the smell hits my nose
Something I relate to you every day
Even when I don’t see you
You think your an inspiration to me
It’s something to start with
I write sad letters to myself
And let me read them in your voice
This past year of having dreams of you and me
Sitting somewhere on a balcony
Setting into our thrones
As king and queen
Take over the world I thought
With someone I could share a cigarette with
Even though I hate yours
I could live with the smell if it meant I could dream of you a little longer in the morning
Dreams turn to nightmares
And sleep turns to none
Mornings are longer
A clock ticks in my head
But a bell doesn’t ding
I have no ideas anymore
It’s all silence
And one single tear drop hits the page
I never thought I’d be a sad author of love
But I guess life isn’t predictable
Neither are you.