I miss singing along
to ****** pop songs,
riding around,
thinking we were going to last forever.

I miss your family,
your little siblings
climbing all over me,
them viewing us as a unit that would always be a part of their lives.

I miss the safety,
when you'd calm me down
after  panic attacks,
thinking nothing would ever hurt me as long as you were there.

I do not miss you.

I know, from where you’re at in this,
things seem bright.
He’s treating you well,
expressing that he ****** up;
it for sure won’t happen again.

He’s texting you “goodnight beautiful”
every night before he goes to bed.
He’s telling his friends that you’re his girl,
you’re spending time with his siblings.
He’s buying you things,
he’s spending time with you.

I know,
I’ve been there.

I plead that you realize that it won’t always be like this.

Soon he’ll start blowing you off,
no call,
no answer.
If he hasn't already, he’ll start lying about where he is,
who he’s with,
who the girl he was talking to was.
You might found out.

But don’t confront him about it, oh no.
It’ll be all your fault.
You’re crazy.
You drove him to it.
It never happened, why are you demonizing him?
Or he’ll cry and say that he ***** everything up
and you can’t leave him, too.

I know that things seem good now.
I’ve been there.
If you got out now,
you’d really be dodging a bullet.
Don’t be like me.
Please recognise you deserve better than him,
that he doesn’t deserve you in the slightest.
He cheated on you once,
you know he’ll do it again.

You won’t ever listen to me, though.
I didn’t listen when I was warned.
I’m just a crazy ex, you know?
Just like he’ll tell you all of them are.
Every
single
girl
he’s ever been with.

another crush
on another stupid boy
that i've hardly ever spoken to.

from how things have gone before,
i'll probably never pursue it.
but, oh goodness,
he's rad
and way too good for me.

I'm so tired of relapsing
into things I should have been done with
years ago.
Maybe this'll be the last;
I'll give up
on the notion of recovery
for good
and just let this finally
**** me.

You were the catalyst
for this relapse.

On one hand,
I can't stand you.
I want to set your stuff on fire
and scream-
oh god, I want to scream-
until you feel
what I feel.

On the other,
If I hated you that much,
I wouldn't be trying
this ******* hard
to fill the gap that you left.

the only time
that I don't have
nightmares
is when I sleep
next to you.
my dark circles
now almost look
fake.
I've been too scared
to sleep
for weeks now.
caffeine
can't comfort me
like you do.

I promised myself
that I'd never write a poem
about you.

But you stabbed me
in the back;
I just apologized for
getting blood on you.

Breaks aren't permanent, right?
There's still an us, right?

I looked at the pictures in your snap story,
the ones with your arms around that girl,
on a continuous loop
for the 24 hours they were available.

I know what that look
that was in your eyes means.
I've seen it a million times.
Does what I know you did
count as cheating
if it's during a break?

You said you needed time.
Yet, I so desperately
want to speak you.
I'll apologize again,
who knows what for.

Call me "***" again
and make me smile
because it feels like those muscles
aren't working
on my own.

We can't fix anything
without talking.
Oh god, come online
and speak to me.

I can't remove the knife
by myself.
At least take responsibility
and clean up your mess.

I think I change
"what I want to be when I grow up"
so much because
I'm not sure if
I'll let myself live that long.