behind pseudo sickness you crawl to me,
with your lies like flies between your teeth,
adderall caked on your cheeks. your fingers are
unwilling to leave prints, and i can only shake you
off.

yes, go leave. yes, escape if you must,
but i know any lands you walk on will spring with dead
weeds. because you twisted and turned me for two years,
speaking of love but instead giving me
icy nights and days full of eyeliner streaked tears.

go and live with your “gluten-sensitive” lifestyle,
your hypochondriac tainted glasses, seeing nothing but
no and no and no and empty voids,
running through role-plays that are always so much more appealing then
a beautiful girl who ripped her heart out for
you.

no, i’m not cynical. no, i’m not
angry.
i am frustrated. wishing you had cried for me for weeks, and i know
you didn’t. i am thinking of those bruises on your neck, your
"**** buddy" and how your step-sister was a better choice
for you.

so leave, please, just leave.
and no, i don’t want to see you.
you can’t leave ashes in my mouth, not this time.