you think you’ve known loss. You take pride in it. You couldn’t be more wrong. Honestly you’re lucky that your heart is still alive. You have the opportunity to have momentary exchanges now and then. You may not be part of their lives but you still get to see them grow. I wish you never know the loss that I do but sometimes I do. Maybe you wouldn’t take love for granted. You wear your bruised heart like a medal, strapped tight to your chest. One day all your youthful pride will be gone, you will realize how much time you squandered with that battered heart strapped right to your chest. And then you will want to set it free. But you will see that it has withered and died. And unfortunately maybe then, you will think of me. I know for a hard fact no one breathing yet will love you as vastly as I do. You were not born from my womb, I love you out of choice. Everyday, your whips skin deep into my skin. It stings but I’m content with the fact that I still have so much love left in me. 7 years ago, my heart died. I think I take your shit because you uncannily remind me of me. Better. I always thought I could do better. And as he lay there purple, swollen wrapped in a shroud. Half of me wanted to wake him up, praying that he would move a finger or twitch his eyelids. Half of me wanted to wrap up inside the shroud, next to him – a place I was familiar with – a place that was familiar with me – a place that was home for many years. Better? It felt and still feels like a good smack to my ignorant ego. I know for a fact I will never be loved and cherished the way that boy did. Never. When he lay there I wanted to take back all the fights we had – realizing how much time you have wasted being egoistic is ugly. youve bruised me, cut me, twisted me thrown me, spit on me. I’m still here not because I’m a loser and can only take your shit. I choose to love you, every day. Regardless of the circumstances and that’s one thing you’ll never take away from me.