"don't fall for the boy who tells you you remind him of someone."

i couldn't help myself,
no,
not when the someone
he was referring to
was his mother

"i had every intention of telling you,"
he claims.
"but it's already too late,"
i say.
he replies with the ever so cliché line that is, "it's never too late."
i'm not sorry
that some things just are.

"don't expect to not get disappointed,"
they said.

i didn't expect you to hurt me
no, not
the same way you know i already have been before

that's what blinded me
but had my eardrums alert
adverting its attention
to my slowly cracking heart

it wasn't that you hurt me
that hurt the most
it was how you did
while knowing,
how you were doing it,
all while promising
"i wouldn't ever"
turns out you would
turns out you are
like them
like all the others
and
dare i say it,
like him.

my tears don't threaten to spill
they run down freely
fiercely
without my permission
i never really did learn how to choke down a sob
i was never taught to do so

she furiously scribbles down on her tiny notebook
that she keeps hidden

trying with all her might to ****
and continue starving herself

because apparently pretty hurts

"i love you,"
i mumble,
promising him.

what i don't utter are the words

i love you so much i really should be leaving
but i won't
because i can't hurt you
not in that way
not ever like that

"at least let me know why you left," he begged.

but i couldn't possibly tell him i couldn't hear bells
and that
i heard it only with someone else..