I told a group of people that a part of me died that moment,

When I knew you wanted nothing to do with me anymore.

What was it inside my mind that made me think

You were meant for me?

A part of me always dies

Like skin cells another one regrows to adapt to this world.

Love thyself before anything else.

Even my bestfriend will leave me.

Does the human memory even matter?

We are so evolved and so smart, we created ego.

But it does not matter, in fact it is a double edge sword of omega and alpha.

All the things I have wont matter.

All of me in a pile

The best version of myself.