Over.
That word.
Over. What does that mean? Over?
"Its over."
Reading it a million and one times, and still not comprehending.
Can't make sense of it.
"We're over."
Meaning, you and I are over? Over what?
I'm not over you. Are you over me?
****! I was over you last week, and you sure as hell didn't seem to mind!
You were into me then!
Really into me.... Into me and out of me.
You were over me too then. Still into me and out of me.
What is over? What in the **** is over?!
Remember when it was come over?! Then come closer. Then closer to coming all over.
Now I'm only coming undone.
Done.
Over.
I say the word out loud. Over.
Over and Over and Over.
"Its over," I say.
I feel the vibrations in my throat as the two tiny words pluck my vocal chords and swim their way up to make my tongue and lips form them and make them real.
"Its over." I say it again.
This time the words catch in my throat. Probably blocked by the lump holding back the stupid tears.
Overwhelmed. Overpowered. Overthinking.
Heart overprotected because WE'RE OVER!
ITS OVER!
Over hurts. Such a stupid word.
Over isn't so much a word, as a feeling.
A variation of feelings.
I liked to feel you over me.
You liked to feel me over you.
Now, we're over.
It's over.
And over hurts until I get over you; get over it.
I have to get over it, because its over.
Over.
That feeling.
How do you get over over?

I put on a show.
I'm quite the actress.
I act like a ***.
Bet you'd never guess.

I've only slept with two men...
well, willingly.
If you count my ****...
then that makes three.

People lie all the time,
but numbers don't.
I'm not quite sure of my number though.

I paint on a smile,
then I'm ready to go.
*****, Camera, Action.
I'm a **** show.

I now understand
this mark here on my hand
From trying to punch myself out of you.

I got it in attempt
to escape from the sac
That kept me inside of your womb.

I was smart then you know.
I knew I had to go.
My first instincts were truer than true.

You're not a mother to me
Aside from biologically.
You're more of the noose
That will be the death of me.

Roses are Red, Blood is too.
You're my best friend, but I hate you.
Best means nothing.
Friend means less.
Yet without you,
Truth?
I'm a mess.

Said what I said *** I give a ****
which is more than you get from the crowd you hang with.

Ricky and Dustin and tall hot blonde kid,
Misha, and Matt..
**** all of them!

Better yet, don't!
They don't deserve you.
I know you don't believe it,
but its true.

You're incredible, as I've said before.
Start believe that.
Stop being a *****.
Who is this girl?
You could be so much more!

You want to be wanted?
That's what you want for yourself?
What about success, dreams,
and maybe good health.

If I could give everything I have,
I would.
If that meant you were happy
and would smile like you should.

I would die for you.
Why don't you understand that?!
You're the best friend that I've ever had!

Delete my number.
Do you think I meant that?
I felt like such **** that's the response that I had!
And you can forget me and go get a tatt?
While I'm in tears over a fight that we had!

You get drunk and say you hate your life.
Yet continue to do it every night.
and I'm willing to drive there to be there for you
because that's what a ******* best friend would do!

And no matter what, I'll always be here for you.
And if you walk away,
I'll be here, too.

Violets are blue,
and that's how I'm feeling.
If you're at this point,
I guess thanks for reading.

This is my cry,
my reach out to you.
Cuz the way I love you girl,
a text wouldn't do.

Best means nothing,
friend means less.
But sisters are until the ******* end.

I don't care if you hate me or if I hate you.
I don't care if sometimes we have a fight or two.

The fact is, there's nothing that I can do
to even begin to explain to you
how much I want to make amends
try to improve and just stay friends.

You don't have to acknowledge me.
Delete me from your life,
all over some stupid ****** strife.

But I couldn't stay awake for one more night
thinking about it,
pretending everything was alright.

Let me know one way or the other.
Let's not give up on one another.

With everything that we've been through,
I don't want to stop being a we with you.

You're my best friend,
my sister,
my wife.

You're my tree,
my twin,
my kiss at midnight.

You're such an immense part of my life.
Eliminate you at this point?
Yeah right!

So roses are red, and blood is too.
We're at war,
yet I'm on the frontline for you.
Fighting for everything we've been through
and I'm not giving up.
**That's what best friends do.

Now, I lay me down to sleep.
I pray that you won't cry and weep.
And if I die before I'm saved,
I pray God takes me anyway.

And remember I haven't gone away.
Now I'll be with you every day.

One, two, three, four
I just can't care anymore.
five, six, seven eight
I'll be dead soon.
Save the date.

An amature artist paints on her face.
Each stroke of the brush is another mistake.
Her natural beauty's concealed away
beneath a thick mess of dark colored paint.

Masked and hidden,
Tucked away and unknown.
Her pain is unseen by the smile painted on.

The thoughts of suicide
and all of her fears
are displayed in a battle between paint and tears.

So she starts all over,
every day.
To try to forget all of her mistakes.
One pat for the failure.
One stroke for the ****.
One sweep for the talent she lets go to waste.

Blends it all together.
Pretends she's okay.
The piece is now ready to be displayed.