— Jennifer Kaufman (via observando)
Poets are so shady. We are never honest and even if we seem to be too honest and raw, we are not. We are selfish and egoistic. We only write about what hurts us. We write about our pain and suffering. Moreover, we blame it on lover after lover. You have already read that a thousand times before, the story of a how a person broke our heart and tricked our mind.
However, what we never write about is the hearts we break, and the pain we cause. I am not as innocent as I made myself seem in my poems, yes, I am in love with a fool and he breaks my heart every day. But sometimes I wonder if it is just karma hitting me repeatedly.
Oh, there has been a boy willing to set himself on fire for me but I handed him the matches and left… I never saw the beauty of him burning for me. And later on I’ve read about him in the paper, that he is not ashes anymore. Oh my God, there has been a boy I’ve let starving because I thought he already ate too much. I did not want to be another bittersweet revenge on his plate…. only to find out that he was honestly hungry for the love he thought I could give him. I read his cooking books, and he makes sweets for a lovely girl now. And oh, there was a boy with a broken heart but with strong hands that wanted to touch me. I thought I was too extravagant for his dirty soul, and so later on I found out he had mines of gold and diamonds.
I’ve hurt a lot of people. I’ve hurt them the way this boy is hurting me. And now I am screaming to God to forgive me. I’ve been so so ruthless with their good hearts. And I am down on my knees praying for the ghosts to stop hunting me every time I try to love him.
(Source: , via lavitaestbelle)