i'm this close to never talking to him again, but we all know
that will never happen,
he's like the three shots of ***** i knocked back on a thursday,
hot and stinging down my throat,
wishing there was someone else there to keep the warmth going.
i ******* hate the fact
that
he's the first one who made me blush,
before then i never had
but all you have to do is mention him next to me in the car
and my face is a bed of roses.
i'm ******* sick of waiting for a message
any sign that i wasn't just a distraction
a mirage,
any sign that this attraction i'm feeling
is worth it
at all.
i hate the fact, even more,
that he is the closest i've had
to romantic attraction that i can hold in my hands.
that my friends can talk about the boys they've gone through
when i've had this rotten apple core sitting in my stomach
for three years.
and the thing i most hate
is the tingling feeling
of having no one beside me at night
even though i'm fifteen
it's so tangible i can bite it.
i know it's cliche, but
i'm stuck in this hole
this garbage dispenser of no good,
and i've never felt so alone.
i need a new addiction,
so maybe it'll be easier
to quit him.