I don't want to hear it. I wish I could just slice my ears off with the chilling words you spoke to me from across the four foot table in the coffee shop that day.
I don't want to see it. You're repetitive posts of how you hate the idea of giving your all for someone who doesn't give anything back.
I don't want to feel it. The guilt brought down on me like a brick wall slamming against my fading heart.
I don't want to taste it. Your cigarette stained lips touch mine in the middle of a drunken night.
I don't want to smell it. The burning fumes of our so called relationship going down in a rolled up blunt.


You didn't want to hear it. From news from our mutual friends saying that I have moved on to someone new.
You didn't want to see it. The fact that I constantly gave it my all through the past five months we shared.
You didn't want to feel it. Loneliness brought onto you by passing and going promises to hang out and worthless ***.
You didn't want to taste it. The unsatisfying flavor of depression take over your mouth making it dry with desperation.
You didn't want to smell it. The shower of perfume that once infiltrated your car and stayed there for nights on end.


*I gave you all I could. And maybe I am heartless for moving on so quickly, but for you to attempt to make me feel bad for it is wrong. For all those endless nights of waiting for your call is now over and you can now sleep peacefully knowing if you ever need to write my eulogy you have plenty to say