its only 11:09
and you're already drifting throughout my thoughts,
who knew pretending
to be okay
was so exhausting?
i'll come clean-
i haven't been the same since the day i left
or the day i stopped responding,
the day i changed your contact name and
the day i muted you on every social site.
it gets easier
to pretend.
everything else? the void just gets dustier,
more vacant, more longing for a fill.
i see more cobwebs and every so often,
i let the cigarette fumes air me out.
it's 11:11 and i can't pretend any longer
i haven't been the same without you
i can't pretend the distance between us
doesn't feel so wrong, in every sense of the word. wrong.
i can't pretend the gut-wrenching pain of knowing you miss me,
knowing you wonder if i kept your sweatshirt,
knowing you hope i still read the 'letter to him,' i can't
pretend this doesn't eat at me every moment.
knowing you can't hold down food eats at me every moment.
knowing i could fix you, & maybe you could fix me too.
it's mind splitting, and
i think the broken glass shards of my heart are beginning to poke again