how I'm all but
suffocated
by the story of her
wake
& somehow she is always
busy;
I've crawled so far
out of my way

I cannot stand to
sit and listen
to my heartbeat falling faint
its own pulsation makes me dizzy
& veins paint painfully her face


so I can call it quitting
now that everything's turned grey
& all my cannot haves are useless
just like, loving you this *way

I didn't -
fall out of love
I tumbled, backward;
overly-tired
chocking on Z's
and poetry:
my, indecent way of
overexposing my
love for you
and
no one likes to be embarrassed
but
I'd rather be that than
without you
so I tortured myself
I strangle my own neck
over and over again
with palms that
want nothing to do with me;
I'd rather
fall asleep
under water
than
breathe this way
*anymore

We all have become so exceptionally good at faking our happiness…We no longer know when we are actually happy or when the smile is only for the world to see and not to be felt.