I looked at an old picture of us countless times today and when I thought I started my period I almost cried from relief.
It was a false alarm.
I thought that maybe I was falling for this other guy but I'm just me and so he's not interested.
I'm sitting at the park right now. Its chilly and I want to go back to the house but I know I'll start cutting.
Oh yeah. I'm doing that again. Right underneath my *******. Hidden so well.
I want to talk to someone or cuddle or just ha e somebody want me.
Why doesn't anybody want me.
I shouldn't be thinking about you still. Its been over a month since we first stared replaying our game.
I read the most beautiful poem today.
I'm going to go back to the house I'm staying at and take a shower and bleed out my heart. I have been crying nonstop for days now and I hate everything.

breathe.
because you know what you
do when someone ***** you
over? you calmly take your
heart out of their hands
and leave. you think maybe
you'll sew it back on to
your sleeve but not now, not
today. you put their things
in a box (their cds, their
shirts, their books, their
notes, the little things you
picked up on your dates)
and you put it on the
highest shelf in your
closet, because someday
you will want to remember
them, maybe. if you don't
want to remember them, you
give them the box, you
donate the box, you throw
the box in the river. and
you breathe. because you
deserve better. you deserve
someone who doesn't consider
you a fallback, a plan b.
you will be someone's plan.
you will be the only plan.
you will be my-god-what-
was-i-doing-before-you-
walked-around-that-
corner. remember that
you are enough.
breathe.

i.
hearing your name still fills me with a certain intoxicating sweetness.

ii.
i hate you. god, i hate you so much. but i love you. please come back.

iii.
i'm sorry that it had to end up like this. i don't think you care, though.

iv.
it's okay if you've lost your innocence. i've lost mine, too. life will do that to people.

v.
i was often happiest when you said my name like maybe i meant something to you.

vi.
i am stuck between wanting to forget you and wanting to crawl back to you.

vii.
most of my poems are still about you, even now.

viii.
i hope you're doing okay.

ix.
please don't forget me.

x.**
thank you.

We spend each day waiting for the day when we won't have to wait.

But what happens if we miss it because its one of those days when we just cannot leave the house.
I am scared of being scared and this fear if mine is killing all of my dreams.

I write about wanting to be loved but how is that going to happen when I push everyone away?
I am a frightened fool.
I want someone to make the first move because I am so scared.

Why. Why. Why.
What difference does any of this make anymore?

I am not good. I can't write well. I can't love well. I can't live well so why do I even try.

This is so jumbled like my heart.

The other day the clock struck 11:11 and I made sure to not wish for anything for that minute.