I'll see you on the streets
and you'll wave
and I'll smile.

You'll hug me
and as I am around you again,
I will inhale
and hold on to you as long as I can.

You'll ask me how things are.
I'll lie and say I'm okay.
I won't tell you
that I can't sleep anymore.

I won't tell you
that I can't eat since you left,
that I can't look myself in the mirror
because all I see are the parts of me
that you must have got sick of looking at.

I got sick of them, too.

I only loved myself
when you loved me, too.
Now you left me alone
and I want to leave me, too.

You'll talk
but I won't hear you.
My mind will be thinking
of the pills in my cabinet
and how much prettier
I would look on the floor.

You will talk
but I will not hear you.
I will not hear.

You'll tell me about your new girlfriend
and how her hair falls perfectly
around her round face.

I will wonder
if you ever told your ex's
about my eyes
or my skin.

I will lie
and tell you that I am happy for you.
And I will go home
and try not to die.

We will hug again,
and you will walk away.
I will turn around
and try not to cry.

I will never see you again
and wonder if you will see me one more time;
only dead.