I forgave you in mid-June,
After you blocked me on
Whatever social media
You wanted to use.

I found out recently you took the photos of me
Off your other social media,
The one that was primarily pictures.

And it's fine, really.
It's easier to remember the people you hate,
Than the people you've hurt.
Purge me from your life,
Forget a year of living,
Whatever.

I just find it,
Ultimately, the most extreme
Form of cowardice
I have ever perceived.

Why take ownership
Of the sins you've committed
And seek a way to repent and change,
When you can just erase the memories
And continue on
As a vapid narcissist.

Have you told her you love her yet?
I hope she knows you're lying,
If you did.
Because you told me a week or two
Into our relationship,
And continued for a year.
All of it was either *******,
Or you're lying right now,
To everyone.

I'll break every promise I made,
Because you're all self serving,
And the majority of you are liars.
I'll tell you who told me about
All the lies and mistruths
You spoke before we ended
And after too.
Just like all the girls before me,
You got bored and decided
You'd be a crybully and end it as a victim.
You're a child, a spoiled child for that.
For doing this to me and everyone before me,
And probably everyone after,
Because you'll never be happy
With anyone who has free thought,
And doesn't want to be slave to your desires
And tantrums.

Can you guess who told me everything?
You used to hate them,
But they grew on you (with help from me)
And now they're marrying one of your best friends.
I hope that was clear enough for you,
You're a little dense.

Good thing she bailed too.

I can't wait for the moment when I can tell
Everyone every awful thing you did.

I forgave you,
In mid-June,
For every horrible thing you did
To me.
Whether it was in the beginning of "Us"
or the end,
And everything
In between.

Because there is no more
"Us".
Only your lies
And my memories.

The only thing I regret
From our time together,
Was that I wasn't the one who ended it.

Go ahead and twist the knife in my stomach.
I don't care anymore.
I hope it rusts in your hands,
And your callouses and blisters get infected.

I am not going down
Without a fight.

You have your lies!
I have my memories.
Who's the coward here?

I forgave you
In mid-June.