so you see,
there's nothing to ensure
that everything we went through
and everything you ever did to me
ever happened
there are no books
with frayed pages & cracking binds
that are tearing apart at the seams
telling our story
in words of black and white
and times new roman
with measly pieces of euphoria
hidden in between the lines
there are no aging, decrepit newspapers
with headlines of innumerable uproars
of when people had heard of
the pain that had accumulated in my heart
and started seeping its way into
the rest of my body
(because no one cared that much honestly)
simply because pf what you did
the promises you failed to keep
and your cool, calm, and caring persona
that you failed to keep fooling me with
the trees no longer whisper your name
when the rain and tree leaves
collide with each other
during a violent yet calming thunderstorm
your awfully large footprints
from where you tracked in mud
on my egg shell carpet
on your way to see me
are now washed away
and it seems as if
you were never even there
your love bites that you left
alongside of my delicate neck
that were once a deep burgundy
have no faded
and no longer show any signs
that your lips were ever pressed
against my body
it was like nothing ever happened
and since nothing was recorded
nor kept or saved
to everyone else,
and even you,
nothing ever did
and unfortunately
that's how it's gonna stay