This poem and state of mind is about a very real and raw feeling I have right now. 
It's about a relationship I have with a guy who sends me all the wrong signals and I keep taking the bate. I don't hate myself for it but I do get frustrated with the part of me who constantly says stay away from him, he's not good for you.

 

 

Bread Crumbs

 

It’s easy to romanticise you

for what you’re not.

 

Actually—

it isn’t easy at all.

 

I thought I had no tears left,

yet here I am,

drowning in the same small choices

I keep calling love.

 

I’m running out of room

for the trophies and medals—

all the ways

you’ve won inside my head.

 

Painting with fingers instead of brushes,

mixing the wrong colours,

convincing myself it’s beautiful

when I know it isn’t.

 

I wouldn’t hang you in a gallery.

 

And if I did,

it would be called Starved.

 

You led me into your heart

with stale breadcrumbs

and the promise

of a meal that never came.