the bad half

I don’t know how to love her just
how to leave her. 
It feels healthier when I’m gone 
but she seems happier when I’m around. 
I’m just seeing what I want to see. 
Dragging her around 
because she seems good for me 
even though I’m bad for her. 
I don’t know how to treat her just 
how to laugh with her. 
Her smiling is so healing even though I’m draining. 
I can see it in her eyes. 
A little less life each time I ghost her, 
but I don’t know if the ghost is actually me. 
Maybe it’s her. 
Maybe that’s why she scares me 
even though she’s not scary. 
She’s so friendly and I’m so angry. 
I do know how to be half of her. 
That much I can tell is true. 
She’s the other half of me. 
The half that’s good. 
But that’s exactly why she’s such a fool, 
so as the bad half it’s my job to set her free. 
Half of us is already corrupted and 
she deserves so much better so 
it’s best if she simply let me be.

the bad half Stories by Noelle

You can find the written poem on my blog. — This episode is sponsored by · Anchor: The easiest way to make a podcast. — Send in a voice message: Support this podcast:

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