I died....

Bag lady.
I've carried the burden of a broken heart for long enough.
It is time to move forward.
It is time to strip away the bondage and confront the truth.
They say what doesn't kill you makes you stronger.
Well truth is...
I died years ago.
My heart was shattered. And I convinced myself that your piece of tape made it better.
Temporary adhesive from short term lovers led me to believe that life was much better.
Well Truth is...
I died in 6th grade when my "boyfriend" dumped me for the light skin long haired girl I called my best friend.
I died the night I lost my virginity to a "boyfriend" who didn't claim me as a girlfriend because I was a year younger and his real love was in his homeroom.
I died the day I let "mr. summer fling" convince me that he loved me....even though he only said it when he was inside of me.
I died that cold winter night "mr. right" walked on my porch in his dope-boy coat and wheat timbs. He understood me and made me feel like I was beautiful beyond even what my eyes can see. And even though he had a grilfriend, for 6 years I gave him ownership of me.
I died the first day of school (my freshmen year) when I met "my real boyfriend." He was talk, dark, handsome, and mysterious. Iwas dead after he spent a year cheating on me, producing babies with other women, spreading things, yet steadily telling me he will always love me.
I died that day after lunch when "the charmer" bumped into me, and said he had a girlfriend but couldn't imagine his life without me. A whole year I let him kill me. Only to see him marry and build a family with a woman that wasn't me.
I died the morning my unborn child was sucked out of me and the night "mr. father" smacked me. I let him degrade and belittle me. forgetting my worth and quality.
I died the day I seen my "high school sweetheart" kissing the "prettiest junior in the school" at her locker during my senior year of high school. And I let him kill me with guilt of being the woman he should of married as I watched him tattoo the name of his wife on his chest.
I died that hot July day when I realized that my relationship with my first real love (my first girlfriend) was all a lie. I let her lies, mistreatment, and ungratefulness kill me.
I died that first semester of college when I laid on "mr. blu phi" chest ass naked as he asked another girl to be his girlfriend after I had been dating him for 3 months. He killed me as he looked me in the eyes and said that "I wasn't the image he usually goes for with his girlfriends."
I died that day in the laundry mat when "mr. blu #2" told me that he needed to get something off his chest and even though he loved me, he couldn't see himself with me any longer because he loved her sooooo much more.
I died the night i caught my "girlfriend" of a year and a half having sex to her "boyfriend" in my bed. I let her suck all of my money, energy, self confidence, and self worth right out of me.
I died when I let "my king" slip away from me. We were so different, yet so much alike. I died when we let our friendship dissolve into a speechless war of disappointment and confusion.
I died when "mr. blu phi #3" tweeted about his new girlfriend that was not me. It killed me to think that I had given this man so much of my time, heart and energy only to realize that he never felt the same way about me.

I died a long time ago.
Letting new lovers apply tape to my heart. disguising my pain with temporary relief like a five hour energy drink.
I knew I was dead when I felt the leaks grow larger and larger yet I couldn't fill the source.
It was full of empty pain. Running from the truth of my diminishing self worth.

Bag Lady. It's time to set yourself free.

Claim your happiness and inner piece.

I'm dying to live again.