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Jocelyn Mack Poem
"I like being alone," she says
Until shes alone laying in bed
wishing that she had a friend
someone to love her until the end
Her friends are out at a party somewhere
getting invited nowadays is rare
she wished they all saw her the way she saw herself
maybe then she would be higher on their shelves
Copyright © Jocelyn Mack | Year Posted 2025
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Jocelyn Mack Poem
Maybe I've never been enough for you,
On the occasion you speak the truth,
My heart gets broken over and over again.
Maybe if I looked like her,
Of course we would only know if I were,
Maybe that would make it harder to leave.
My heart goes out to those like me,
Others who feel like they can't breath,
Muddled by the presence of a wicked thing.
Maybe one day I'll get out,
Out of the darkness there's no doubt,
My spirit will be free and you will have no hold on me.
Copyright © Jocelyn Mack | Year Posted 2025
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Details |
Jocelyn Mack Poem
You said I was too sad for you,
Like my honesty was shame.
Like the way I trusted you with my hurt
Was a weight you couldn’t name.
I gave you the map to my scars,
Thinking you'd trace them with care.
But you just marked the exit signs
While I was still laying myself bare.
Four days.
Four days after you walked away,
You showed up laughing
In her driveway.
My best friend's sister —
The one you said was “just around.”
Turns out you were texting her
While I was breaking down.
I remember the late nights I talked to you,
Even when my chest felt tight.
I gave you comfort while I was sinking,
Just to keep your world feeling right.
I told you the truth —
That some days I felt like a ghost.
You said I was too heavy,
Then ran to her like she was the coast.
And maybe she’s lighter,
Less mess, more smile.
Maybe she doesn’t cry when it rains —
At least not for a while.
But I carried your guilt like a secret vow,
Loved you like a storm loves the sea.
Even when it hurt, I stayed —
You were still worth the ache to me.
Now you post her face like a trophy won,
While I’m just a name you left behind.
But you’ll never find a love like mine —
The kind that breaks,
And still stays kind.
So call me too sad,
Call me too much,
But at least I was real when it burned.
And one day, when the thrill fades fast,
You’ll wish for the love you returned.
Copyright © Jocelyn Mack | Year Posted 2025
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