This account isn't made for you
All these poems aren't about you
The one I like is of course not you
The one I love couldn't be you

In my head you're erased
In my heart you have no place
I don't remember our kisses' taste
I forgot about our sweet embrace

You don't love me anymore, I could only care less
I will never wear that **** blue dress
Remember the day I said 'to you, I'd still say yes'
Forget it 'cause I am a big mess.

Denial
  I did deny that your kisses were shorter
And when I reached out to hold your hand, you would...
Count a few seconds before reaching to your phone, to keep your hands busy.
Or that you would always find an excuse, to spend less intimate time with me.

Anger
  At the fact that I chose to stay with you, than to spend time with my family.
I willingly chose to accept your invitation.
Angry at the fact that I could not do amything beyond my time.

Bargain
  I tried talking and listening to your side.
You said you no longer want verbal and physical gestures of affection
You said that we have to hide our aftections, for others are quick to judge..
And you always introduced me as a friend.
I accepted your terms. Bargaining I did... To make us last a little bit longer.

I was just prolonging my agony. Thinking it was worth it.

Depression.
  Every night I cried
I have never experienced this much pain.
For seeing you so near to my grasp,
Yet holding you was never an option.

Acceptance.
  Give me more time.
Then maybe I will accept this fate,
Of losing the one I loved for reasons unknown, or perhaps, for no reason at all...

There are certain parts of misery
That never made sense to me.
I never caught on to the self harm thing,
I figured I already felt bad enough.
I never drank it away,
Because a hangover was just a reminder
That putting a coat on
Doesn't stop the snow.
DABDA doesn't make sense either.
How can you be angry
About something you haven't accepted yet?

I do now understand masochism.
I certainly don't practice it,
But I get it.

The thing with masochism
Is that you really have to love it.
You really have to let go.
My nerves are just nerves.
My skin is just skin.
My eyes just make drawings out of ****.
******* purple from the fourth wall
Letting the people eat a different truth.

My brain on a steady loop
Of Whose Line Is It Anyway reruns
Just waiting to invent the next thing
We all take for scripture.