My stomach is killing me and I don't know if it's because I haven't eaten in 4 days or if it's because I heard someone say your name. You're stuck in my chest and I try to get you out but the cigarettes make it harder to breathe and the ***** makes it harder to think of anything but you. I know you were never really mine and we were never in love but oh god we could've been. You're the face I look for everywhere I go, wether it's the gas station to get a pack of gum or a party I know you'd never go to. You're the voice I needed to hear when I got the call about my grandfather. You're the touch I lust for when it's 3 in the morning and I've got the weight of the world on my shoulders and I don't know what to do with it. You're the smile that could cure the deepest depression. But you're also a disease. You're the pain in my stomach when I'm trying to hang out with friends and you're all I think about. You're the tear stains on my pillow from the night you told me you loved her and I swear I cried every tear that God gave me. You're the void in my brain, the part that makes it impossible to fall for anyone else, to let go of you. You're the gravity that drags me down, brings me to the middle of the kitchen floor asking God why it had to be me. You're everything. You're everywhere. You're the disease and the cure. And I don't know what the **** to do with or without you.