I started punching holes in the walls where our pictures once hung. Kissing you felt a lot like signing my death certificate.
I lit my cigarettes from the rage that burned in your eyes every time I told you how I really felt.
You never did handle the truth very well.
God started to burn all the places I thought we could be happy in.
Starting at your bed and ending at your grandfathers grave.
I sipped wine from your collarbones but it never tasted as sweet as the bitter words that seeped from your mouth.
I started a revolution in my mind just to see you smile.
One time I stole the moon because I liked the way it reflected your brown eyes.
The moon repulses me now.
People try and correct me when I tell them that the moon is brown and not white. And that the dark side doesn't exsist. It was just the part you always kept hidden.
You didn't like when I joked about death or when I painted pictures on my stomach but you I didn't like when you touched her hair and kissed her lips.
I didn't like that I would simultaneously die and yet live every ******* time you touched me.
I covered up my hate for you through side ways glances and holding your hand.
I showed my love for you by telling you I was okay and making sure you fell asleep first.
I kissed you one last time tonight and put the seal of approval right next to my time of death.
I hope you find the girl who falls asleep first.