Even a Second
You don’t love me,
but that’s okay, I understand.
It only makes sense.
Someone like you,
so beautiful,
so perfect,
like the sunset in September,
you could never love someone like me.
So nondescript,
so flawed,
like an attempted painting that ended up crumpled up,
sitting at the top of the trash can.
We’re from two completely different worlds and
yours
is so far above
mine,
that I can’t even reach it if I stretch on my tip-toes.
You should never have to reach down for me,
and I shouldn’t expect that you would.
Nothing about me is even close to being good enough for you.
I don’t know why I ever thought I had
even the slightest chance
with you,
because,
to be honest,
I’m extremely lucky if I ever
occupied your mind
for even a second.
