I never imagined we'd spill the same cup but the floor feels a lot stickier than when I last walked here.
Your eyes are daggers that slice the tension in the air like a coffee cake.
I struggle to mold the events back into place in my mind and out of my mouth.
No more maybe so's.
No more wondering if part of you died inside too, or if that deceiving smile means more than what meets the eye.
I know you're the devil but you smell like the Lord.
And when you cry I feel defeated.
Once again.
The corkscrew tunnel my mouth creates as I try to find the words I rehearsed into the mirror every day before today.
I can remember clearly the indent of your veins through your skin and the car crash force you used to keep me in place.
Saying sorry is the same as saying you regret it and neither one will take away the weight my bones feel.
One time you asked me where I'd go if I could fly anywhere in the world.
The stars do not reach a place far enough away from this mess you've created.
This inescapable void is one of many you planted in the garden of of my memory.
The thought of your lips makes me nauseous.
And no, I don't hate you, I just can't look at you without seeing the joker card no one plays with.
Your eyes are the color ink used to write the letter F across my graded test.
Telling you how I feel for the first time in four years doesn't make the pain go away,
I'll still wait by my door for your car to pull away before leaving my house,
It doesn't make me comfortable feeling your arms grasped tight around me during a hug,
It just makes it a little easier to choke out a "hello" when I happen to run into you.
And I know,
I know I am not the only one.