Original by Brooke Weiss
We write because we care about things,
Which means you’ve probably never written about me
A damned day in your life. 
It means that you don’t respod to messages
Because you can’t be bothered to love that much. 
It means that every page of this notebook
That’s imprinted with the essence of you
Is for nothing,
And should be taken away in the waves I’m writing this next to. 
It means that I should wash you off of me,
Like the sand on the bottoms of my feet
And find someone else whose eyes are as blue as the coast. 
But most of all it means you shouldn’t ever read this,
Or have read most things I’ve written,
And yet I don’t have the heart to stop you. 


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