for the first time in two years I didn't wake up screaming your name. it still sounded more like a plea for help than a confessional. it was somewhere between "not again" and "don't do this". but it wasn't you. it wasn't the sound of your sweater. it wasn't the smell of your favourite song. it wasn't the taste of your voice. it wasn't you. I'm sure your laughter still lingers on my lips looking for a way out. I knew the day you replaced my bed with hers I'd break. I knew you'd shatter me like your dad's car window. you'd leave me on the cold cement for someone else to clean up. you were always so obsessed with car wrecks it finally makes sense why you were so fixated on me. but why did you choose her? is it the way she can pick her cereal without crying? or is it because you don't have to hide all the knives in the house when she's having a bad day? you knew I was a ******* crime scene when you met me yet you still tore down my yellow caution tape. for the first time in 2 years I didn't wake up screaming your name because I know she already is.