Jealousy Issues

What kills a poet, is the poet themself 

I say 

The one thing I learned to do best, is what ruins me day by day 

I love too hard. 

I loved you so hard that your friend thinks you’re an asshole 

That’s my fault. 

I asked you to talk to her. 

Instead of doing that, you had me questioning what we were 

You broke up with me. 

I’m not mad at that, it was your reasoning 

Half of what you told me was barely true, let alone did you even really tell me half of what was going on 

That was nothing new 

You had a better relationship with your teacher 

She always made you happy, didn’t she? 

I couldn’t though 

You made the abundantly clear towards the end 

You couldn’t talk to me when you were busy 

But you could always talk to your best friend.