It's raining already.

I've given up addiction,
because trying to numb the pain
somehow made it worse.

I've been crying
in the cracks you left behind.

In the spaces between

life

and

death.

want

and

need.

love

and

hate.

In the middle of where
we once met,
that no one else can ever be.

I guess killing ourselves wasn't the best idea
we've ever had,
but it wasn't the worst either.

I feel like I was blind until then,
and I'm sorry it took so much to open my eyes,
but sometimes life is only worth it if you've gotten a glimpse of death.

breaking points, raw meat,
kitten beards, broken promises,
suicidal teens,
stained sheets,
empty heads, sore throats,
a lot of pills
and ****** up memories.

I'm not glad you're dead,
or that I'm still alive.

I am glad that I can't talk to you anymore,
because that's what killed me the most.