You wanted to change your name,
erase it like a smudge on a window,
disappear,
somewhere no one knows your story.
Maybe then, you could heal-
become someone whole, someone untouched,
someone not scarred by the memory of him.

Thoughts of him coat your tongue in bile,
the bitterness rising every time his name is whispered.
Seeing him smile twists something
a nauseous pull that you can’t swallow down.

You want to be happy for him,
The lie is sour,
a betrayal you taste with every forced smile.

You think of all the things you would do
if you had never met him-
if his eyes never reflected your hopes,
if his voice had never filled your silences.
If you had never cared for him,
never nurtured the parts of him that bled into you,
maybe you could have stayed unbroken.
if you had never felt the things you felt with him,
if his words had never mattered more than your own,
maybe you wouldn’t feel like this,
walking on glass,
the shards cutting with every thought of him.

You wish you could erase him.
Wipe away every trace of his existence in your mind,
so you could stop freezing at the sound of his name,
stop the tears from welling up
when you’re reminded of all that was,
and all that will never be again.

You know you have to move on-
he’s made it so clear,
his life blooming in ways yours can’t.
Good for him.
Here you are, still toxic,
festering beneath the surface.
No matter how much you try to change,
You’re just patching over the rot,
masking the parts of him you can’t face.

You need to ****** this feeling,
bury it deep,
turn your back on the festering wound.
You walk forward,
telling yourself each step is progress,
The weight drags you down.
If you keep going like this,
you’ll crumble under it all.

Maybe that’s what you want-
to fall apart, to die in yourself,
once and for all.