My soul aches for a time when you will apologize. You are a poem I have written over and over. I want to stop writing about ghosts and shadows.
I want to write about the sun, I want to write something you will sob over. I want you to ache as much as I have. I want you to write me down as something beautiful, as your biggest regret.
I want to take it, I want to mass produce it, I want to hang it on the fridge, I want to tattoo it on my face, I want to make you realize that narcissists are nothing but slugs, and you, were the king.