I don't want you to love me anymore,
I want you to be in love with me.
With less than three months
I'm stuck in a downwards spiral
of clinging to your ankles for spontaneous
break outs of loving me to death
or being my death.
I could pray
I could beg you to stop,
but you break my heart every night when you don't show up.
The bags under my eyes don't represent a lack of sleep,
but rather a lack of sanity,
from chasing a ghost for the past six months.
Six hours to ******* forget me.
Forget your medicine.
Forget to breath.
Six minutes away form your house,
and six words left for you:
dependent, selfish, arrogant, immature, ass-licking ********