the thing about me is that I’m everyone’s friend and nobody’s best friend, but when you’re nobody’s best friend, you never get hugs.

If eyes are the windows to the soul, then the concealer I wear beneath mine are my curtains. Hiding the late nights and tear-stained cheeks.

While we were friends, I was happy, I loved my life.
But after you left me broken I was almost alone. The one who kept me company was the voice in my head.
It would tell me all the horrible things you’ve done to me, slowly distancing us until our bond was broken beyond repair. Then it left for a while, leaving me all alone, my only companion this journal.
I talked to you once in class and the voice returned, warning me of how you treated me. Warning me of the broken state it made me come to.
So I’m sorry, I’m sorry the voice got the best of me. But as I sit here writing, still alone, I wonder how much of it could be true.

the voices in my head always take your side
They convinced me you hated me
They pushed everyone away until it was me and them
How long until they push me away too?

I’m fine, except for when you look at me
I’m fine, except for when I hear your name
I’m fine, except for when I think of us
I’m fine, except for when I see my replacement
I’m fine, except for when I see how fast you moved on
I’m fine, except for the fact that I’m not