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I was a person who lived to please the one she loved and fuck being that girl because she will never be happy. 

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I am always the one who loves too much. Yet, this time I choose to love myself.

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I didn’t mean to let you go, I never wanted to lose you.

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Sometimes lost love is a reminder. Of who we are. Of our worth.

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Losing you has taught me that when people leave, it does not determine my worth.

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Maybe if I realize that losing you was not of God, and not meant to break me, but to build me, I can decide to let you go happily, knowing that where I go next will be where I need to be.

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If I had never met you, I would not know what love was. 

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Sometimes I imagine the way your lips
always tasted like both freedom
and familiarity and how your hands
carved new beginnings into my skin.