it’s really hard to breathe.

I can’t eat anything, I’m starving and nauseous.

and I wish maturity was a thing

but instead,
i’m stuck defending myself

against cell phone applications
that find you affection
from someone just as infected

and you already have that low of an opinion
to believe

these are the kinds of people I want to share my death bed with

I wanted to remain friends
but I don’t think that saying
*******
is effective
when
I already have

and when I did

you held me above you

and told me you loved me, I didn’t realize

you were trying  to pull yourself up too

your own reflection masked
with my skin

this false perception
you knew

you lacked within