waiting to live

The sun still rose the day after my heart broke

And the day after that it rose again,

And the facade I shed when you tore me up

Was a part of me that was already dead,

A hollow image of the person

You expected me to be.

Now I laugh and say good riddance,

For what came next was honesty:

I’m not and will never be perfect.

I will never be someone’s image of me.

I can only be the way I am,

To the right person that will be enough.

And I love that, I love my honesty,

I love my imperfections and those of others.

Everyone else can dream

Their sweet, empty, broken dreams

Without me,

Since I was never truly there to begin with.