i have suffocated all the butterflies that you put in my stomach with cigarette smoke and drowned the color of your eyes from my brain with alcohol

i have bled you out of my bloodstream and exhaled you from my lungs

the sound of your voice no longer pumps within the veins inside my fleeting heart, but they sounded more like broken sentence fragments anyway

"you are destroying yourself, not him"

but I'd rather have corrupted lungs than a broken heart
because even if you broke every bone in my entire body,
it still would not be as painful as the way it felt when you left me
alone