I shouldn't write when I drink.
But my mind just feels free.
Nobody knows who I am anyways.
So it doesn't matter.
I can say how I truly feel.
& there's nobody to judge.
I shouldn't write when I drink.
But nobody cares anyways, right?

"It's for the best"
Everybody says
But that doesn't make it hurt any less
How is losing the other half of you for the best
"It's his loss,really"
Then why do I feel like I'm the one who has lost?
"He'll miss you"
Missing me & being with me aren't the same thing..
"You too good for him anyways"
Then why do I feel so low?
"Just go out and have a good time to take your mind off of him"
How am I supposed to do that when everything in the world reminds me of him
Literally everything.
Everybody tries to say the right things.
But I'm not thinking with my head.
So I don't listen..
I'm thinking with my heart
My heart can't hear you.
It feels what it feels.
You can't talk your heart out of things.
It doesn't listen.

I found a lost soul
By accident really
It happened by chance
I picked up the pieces everybody else broke
I reconstructed a heart that had quit beating
I took the place of parents that had abandoned him
Became the friend he'd always wanted
I gave him a safe place to go when he was scared
I took him in
& I fixed him
But in the process I lost myself
I let my soul die while saving another
And that is the worst form of suicide I've ever witnessed

Sometimes
I imagine myself dead
I picture what people will say
What people will do
Who will pretend to have known me
Who will be at my funeral
Who will visit my grave
But you know what I never imagine
Myself alive
I don't know what it feels like to be alive; to LIVE
I know I'm not dead because I'm breathing
My heart is beating
I feel pain
But I don't really live
I gave my all to someone
& they won't give it back...

Its sad really.
To pray every night to wake up with amnesia.
To completely forget everything.
To get a clean slate.
To get to start over.
To forget you.

I wouldn't remember your touch.
I wouldn't remember your smell.
I wouldn't remember your voice.
I wouldn't remember what you did to me.
I wouldn't remember how much you hurt me.
I wouldn't remember how much I loved you.

What's more sad than that,
Is if I met you during my second chance..
I would probably just fall in love with you again.
& then I'd be right back to praying.
Every
Night.
To wake up with amnesia.

"Does your stomach still drop when you see him? "
Yeah.
But not way it use to.
It use to drop from excitement.
Now it's from fear.
What will it be this time?
What has he done? What will he do?
Why is he mad? What did I do?
The constant nagging in my head just anticipating the next fight instead of the next kiss.
The built up fear bc I know I'm about to have to ask if he's coming home tonight or staying out again.
& anticipating the second answer while hoping for the first.
You say you love me.
& I know you use to.
But everything changed.

I can still taste you on my lips
I can still feel you on my skin
I can still smell your scent, it lingers on the t shirt I sleep in at night.
I can still hear the words "I don't love you anymore"
I can still feel your hands around my throat
I can still feel my chest tighten up from not being able to breath
I can still feel your fist against my face
I can still picture you screaming through gritted teeth how you want me out of your life
I can still feel my heart breaking hearing those words from the same mouth that use to beg me to never leave
I can still feel my back against the wall
I can still feel my face against the ground
I can still feel the tears roll down my face
I can still hear the door slam from when you left
& With all of these feelings, I still feel empty...

I spent my time drowning myself in cheap bourbon liquor.
Just to escape the memories of us.
But it always seemed to have me stumbling back to you in a drunk stupor.

But I'll be okay.
I'll pick up all the broken pieces you left behind.
Probably cut myself a few more times on them.
But what else can I do?
I've tried everything else.
I fell in love with someone who didn't want to be loved.
Who COULDNT be loved.
And even after realizing that, I held on.
Because I promised you I would.
I'm not one to break promises.

I can still feel your hands
Around my throat
As you yelled that I didn't love you
How ironic

I tried
To fix you
To repair your heart
To mend your soul
I tried
To take the place of everybody who left you
Of everybody who made you feel alone
I tried
But all that did...
Was break my own heart
Destroy my own soul
I focused all of my time on you & ignored people who cared about me
So now I'm alone
But just know...
That I tried
I promise I did
But some people don't want to be fixed
Some people don't want to be helped
& if you spend your life trying to help the unhelpable
All you do is end up broken, lost & alone
But even still,
I tried.
But now, I'm tired
The same letters.. But a new meaning
I'm TIRED of being the only one trying
I'm tired of sacrificing my own happiness for another's
I'm tired of being on the back burner
Only appreciated at your convenience
I'm tired of being second to everything else
I'm just tired...

How sickening it is
To seek comfort in the very thing that's hurting you
How revolting it is
To allow the same lips that ridiculed & disrespected you, to press themselves against your own with a muttered "I'm sorry".
How pukening it is
That that was enough to "undo" all the bad, at least temporarily.
How disgusting it is
To sacrifice your time, happiness, and sanity for somebody that wouldn't even **** on you if you were on fire.
How repulsive it is
To beg somebody to treat you the way you deserve to be treated.
How monstrous it is
To have fingers apologetically trace over your bruises, cuts & scars.. that were the exact fingers who put them there.
& how coincidentally comical it is
that I've allowed this to be my "normal" for so long.

I don't go out as often as before
Tired of the questions asking
where you are
What went wrong

The same robotic response on my end;
things just didn't work out.
Couldn't work out is more like it.
& then the empty apologies & the non comforting cliche "it's for the best" because they want to say something helpful but quickly realize they're making it worse. the anguish in my eyes is so obvious; even while fabricating a smile across my lips.
I've never been good at pretending.
It's obvious they feel embarrassed for asking & now they begin to stumble over words while looking for an excuse to cut the conversation short. Nobody likes to talk to a dead person. Small talk ends with "I'm always here if you need anything at all" Which translates to "you won't hear from me again".

I stray clear of social media because it's become apparent that Satan runs Facebook & although the torturous track down memory lane sounds about as fun as kidney stones, I oddly enough would not like to see these "memories" from 2 years ago; honestly I'd rather gargle broken glass but I appreciate the gesture.

I avoid certain stores, foods, songs, & even take longer routes to work just in an attempt not to stumble upon old reminders of us.
Even though I could never go anywhere or do anything ever again & you'd still haunt my every thought. Your parasitic implant seems to have no end.

You inhabit my dreams. Like a puppeteer, you manipulate the strings of my mind & force me to act out the nightmares you caused me to live in that I've worked to escape for so long. My conscious is strong, my subconscious  on the other hand could use some work. Memories I've suppressed so deep; you find, & you bring them right back to the surface & it's as if I never left. Paralyzed in a deep sleep I can feel your hands around my throat & hear you screaming through clenched teeth that I didn't love you. Oh the irony in that will never cease to amaze me. I even got a hint of your smell, how mesmerizing & revolting at the same time. But this time I'm watching it AND living it, but can't do anything to stop it. I woke up to discover fresh bruises that morning. How do you do that?

Every time I pray to God your name finds its way into the conversation...
We don't talk as much as we use to.

In a world full of corruption & chaos,
You are my safe place.
Even when you're causing all of my pain.
You are my safe place.

Daily ritual of waking up to check
Twitter
Facebook
Snapchat
Just to see if you're awake...
To see if you have been on your phone and still chosen not to contact me
Or even as much as read my messages..
Your read reciepts are still on ya know.

Again
Twitter
Facebook
Snapchat
Just to see what pictures you thought were worthy to post
Or what song lyric you felt possessed to type..
All while remaining unable to even send me a simple "hello"

Yet again,
Twitter
Facebook
Snapchat
I drive myself mad with this throughout the day
Just waiting...
hoping..
That I will cross your mind
That you will have a change of heart & decide to give me a piece of your time
But until then.. I will continue my daily ritual

Twitter
Facebook
Snapchat
Slowly but surely destroying myself with each & every click...

Months ago you told me to be expecting a surprise.
You said you felt like doing something special for me for all that I do.
You asked me if I could help you pick something, & I refused.
I wanted the surprise to come solely from you.
Little did I know the surprise would be setting me free.
The very last thing I wanted to be.

Tell me again
How it went from you loving me
To not loving me
How it went from me being your world
To not even being an option
How it went from eternity
To never
****, eternity wasn't as long as I planned
Please, tell me again.
I never get tired of this story.

I'm so tired.
So tired of feeling forgotten
So tired of feeling like a burden,
A nuisance. Like I'm somebody's problem.
I'm so tired of not feeling like enough.
Or feeling like I'm too much.
Too much to handle.
Too needy.
Im tired of not feeling important.
Like I don't matter.
I'm tired.
I'm just so
So
Tired.

Why should I let my soul die to save another?
Why should I constantly be upset just so you can be happy?
Why should I put myself aside, to accommodate you?
Why should it always be me?
Why can't you be the selfless one?
When is it my turn to be proud of YOU?
When is it my turn to be taken care of?
Why is it always you?
Why can't it ever be me?

"Why do you stay"
I get this question everyday
& I never know how to answer.
After everything he has done to me
After everything he's put me through
& continues to put me through
I stay because of love
I stay because I'm waiting for the man I met
I'm waiting for the man I fell in love with
For the man who did no wrong
For the Prince Charming who awoke this fire in me I had never felt
For the man who never lied
For the man who was always there
For the man who sought me out
For the man who fought for me
For the man that chose me
For the man that won me

But I need to realize
That man is dead
Or maybe he never even existed
Because the minute I let him in
THE MINUTE I let my guard down
That man was gone.
& he NEVER, never returned.