I hate past tense.
It means that it’s already happened, it’s done, and most of the time it won’t happen again.
Most of all I hate that I’m going to have to learn how to use past tense to describe you.
You deserve to be in present tense.
You deserve to be funny, to be smart, to be passionate.
Instead,
You were funny, you were smart, you were passionate.
So I’m going to keep using present tense to describe the things you did until I can come to terms with past tense.
I do know one thing, though:
You never past-tense ‘loved’ me,
You present-tense ‘love’ me.
And that will never change.

I’m a broken record
Saying the same “my life just *****” over and over again
Without bothering to change the record
because the record player lies just out of my reach
Fingertips grazing
Yet they can’t wrap around the edges to draw it nearer
Even if I managed to get a hold on it
Finding another record is a whole other problem.

How can you feel so much loss for something you never had in the first place

Thought you were telling me what you really felt; turns out you were saving face

New year
Fresh start
New someone
To break my heart

New plans
To make
New dreams
That will break

New me
Getting better
New you
By a greater measure

New way
To miss you
New way
To wish you knew

Same wishes
That you were there
Same realization
That you don’t care

Holes in my ears? 8.
But including the ones in my heart?
Or my soul?
Or my head?
Too many to count.

I punch holes in my ears
To mask the pain of the holes in my heart
That she created when she left.

hopeless romanticism
is an endless pit
of effortless falling
but reckless hypnotism