cover your walls with your poems in times new roman on printer paper and feel better about yourself, cause you can glance over and read that you are better than the lowest moments and the 12 donettes you just ate that you don't even like

and you can listen to really ******* sad country music and be okay with that because you are creating a ******* masterpiece of the words that made you feel worth something

you are the only one who can actually reassure you; you are the only one you can rely on, and you can't ever forget, you can't make homes out of people

because people don't come fully furnished and with a built-in security system, it takes a lot of work to finally fill every empty nook in another person, and sometimes your things are still in the boxes you packed them in months ago, but you always say you'll get around to unpacking it, you don't

you left those things in that cardboard because you ******* knew

you knew that you wouldn't get your security deposit back, you knew that it would be one less box you'd have to search for in a publix dumpster, but the worst part about that one less box is that it was a storage place for where you put yourself when you met her

and she left you in that corner, she didn't want you to fill her every nook and cranny, she didn't need your security system or your ******* poems on her walls, and she definitely didn't ******* need you, but you're better than the box she left you in, baby I am better than that ******* box you forever left me in

I can think of so many ways to ask you to stay. I feel like I’ve already emptied out my mason jar of them to the half-way mark. I don’t know what that means. I don’t know what anything means. I just know that you’ll never feel for me the way I feel for you. I know that you will find someone that will love you in every way you need, and I know that person may not be me. If I said the idea of that made me happy, I’d be lying. I can’t be the ever-positive ex, I can’t promise you that someone else can know the right moments to touch your back. I can’t promise you that someone else will force you to open up to them when you’re upset. I can’t promise you that they’ll be able to hold your weeping head to their chest and they’ll feel the heartbreak I did every time you cried. I can’t even promise you that you’ll wake up holding another girls hand and it feel the way it felt for me. I can only promise you things I know. I promise you that every time you hear a song off of take this to your grave you’ll remember the night we all sang those songs drunk and in love with the worst and best of each other. I promise you that when you read these things you won’t look back at them and they probably won’t really even phase you. I promise you that you’ll always do your best to get to Moe’s on Mondays for your burrito that you won’t most always don't finish. I promise you that you’ll always have the best taste in whiskey, and you will always love the playlists I make. I promise you that the sun will rise every morning just for you, and you will smoke a cigarette to welcome it. I promise you that you will wear a striped shirt at least six out of seven days of the week, and blue jeans five out of seven. I promise you that you will have a soft hum of my voice in the back of your head every time you buy a new pack of marlboro smooths, better yet I promise that you’ll never buy the 100’s because of that. I can promise you all of those things, I can promise you myself.