I walked into a bookstore today
looking like a ghost finally
getting out of the shell it was stuck in.
hair a mess.
lips ****** from continuously biting.
eyes red and watery.
I knew people were looking and I knew they didn't understand.
"why does this girl look like she just got back from a war"
"was she just at a funeral or something"
yes.
yes.
I wanted to tell them I will always love him
but I will resent him forever.
The funeral of our broken memories
broken promises
broken hearts
was a few days ago
and I wanted to tell them that I wished I missed it just like they did.
I should've never gone.
Every where that brought strong vivid memories would forever be a graveyard.
My own ******* bed,
a graveyard.
he used to sleep here I would say.
But he left long ago and leaving absolutely no trace.
no trace of life
no trace of the beautiful love we had.
It takes a horrible person to make something
so beautiful and turn it into bitter dust.
He turned it into a graveyard.
and signed his headstone
"I'm sorry you weren't good enough"