I wrote about Z yesterday
and the day before
and times before that
because as of recently
You have peeled back wallpaper
dismantled my studio
drilled holes through walls
and I can only hear his echoes louder now.
So if he was my best fucking friend
and you're my best fucking friend
then what the hell is the difference?
He ripped my throat out with his crotch
he thrusted my finger so far down his eyes
I can't possibly see what's in front of me
I think I lost the ring there
I think I lost the finger there.
You told me you cheated on your ex
14 times
14 different girls, at least.
He did it once.
Now tell me,
how the hell are you different?
Different always hurts.
Different always stays the same.