To Get Over a Crush, an Ex Boyfriend, Rejection ...(Words of Poetry)

Sweetie, my darling; beautiful girl with a mesmerizing smile; sexy lady with a well shaped-body; magnificent woman with a noble heart and a generous hand; gorgeous maiden with gracious hair; listen to me!

You are like a baby. You are constantly yearning. When you don’t get, you cry. A lot! So does the baby. The difference between you two is that the baby eventually gets. You don’t. You won’t! I am sorry to tell you that you will never get. You are an adult now and you don’t have the luxury of anyone getting for you. So, stop! Stop wanting! Wanting isn’t bad at all, actually. The problem lies within the nature of your heart’s desires.

I love you, sweetheart. That is why it breaks me to see your suffering. It breaks my heart to see you waiting for a rain of gold. It hurts me to see your eyes suffer the pain of that destructive fire you think is going to lighten your life eventually. It destroys me to see your young strong intelligence wasted. It tortures me to watch you waste your time treating a chicken that is never gonna fly. It shatters my brains to see you cry because your heart is beating up in your chest! It causes me great sorrow to see you endanger yourself for worthless things.

That is not worthy of you, nor your time, your attention, your wisdom.Your love. That just sucks like hell over and over again.

Honey, I don’t want to see you wasted anymore; I don’t want to see you stepped on like trash; the humiliation you went through is more than enough. Whatever it is, it’s not the end of the world, sweetie.

So stop! Even if it hurts, stop! Even though you don’t want to let go, stop. Even though you were almost there, stop. But that’s what you keep telling yourself, so stop.

Get your ass off the couch; take a mirror and look at yourself closely. Stare into the swollen red eyes, glare at the puffy wet cheeks, heartbrokeness spread over your face. Wipe your tears with the palms of your hands; clean off the dirty salty waters that are flooding from your eyes. Put your right hand on your heart; stroke it gently, slowly. Inhale and exhale.

And then, tell your heart to stop doing that. Tell you mind to focus elsewhere. Tell your eyes to look there no more. Tell your heart to stop ponding for that. Tell your legs to change the direction. Tell your throat to be thristy for a different drink. Tell your tongue to love a different flavour. Tell your hands to open up for something.Else.

But no. Don’t just tell. Order; instruct; command your soul what to do. Do this with all you might; all your strenght; for the purpose; with determinaton.

Then curve your pale pink lips into a smile, even if it hurts a little. You eyes will follow; your mind will propably think you’re crazy but it will smile too. And your heart … will work on it as good as it will.

And then fake it, babe;

Just fake it until you make it!




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