When I think back to all I’ve had
and how I blew it and the things they ruined,
and how hard it can be to
repair a feeling so fleeting but so filling,
there’s almost always been this culprit
and it’s impulsive and repulsive
and most of all, destructive.
Some people inherit it
and some are lucky enough not to know it
or admit it, that they fit in
the description and definition of the egocentric.
Pride it is called,
and you’d be enthralled
by the power it has on you
and how it’d change your views
of a potentially good relationship
between you two
or the new ones you wish to pursue.
Too many times I’ve bent my ego in the name of love,
despite it being a one-sided throe.
And I regret days we didn’t address
the elephant in the room to confess
what for us was best,
when I decided to protect
my heart instead.
Come back to it, I understand
it is pride that gets in the way
of our best days
because we don’t want to be the first to say
that it feels good to stay.