Eleven Weeks. Is that all it took?
To take us from strangers, to
lovers, to strangers again? I knew
you for eleven weeks yet it felt
like a life time of memories.

Eleven Weeks. Is that all it took?
For me to break every rule of
love for you? To let down my guard
and make you the exception?

Only Eleven Weeks. For you to
become the most important person
in the world to me. For me to become
so co-dependent on you that the
thought of you not being near made me ill.

Eleven Weeks to go from a strong, independent woman to a love sick fool.
Eleven Weeks to sell my soul and give you everything you wanted from me.
Eleven Weeks to lose who I was because I thought you were so great.
Eleven Weeks to rethink my previous notions about love and affection.
Eleven Weeks to become the loneliest I've ever been.

It's not a lot of time and the simple fact that
Eleven
Measly
Weeks
Can change who I am at the core of my being is not okay with me.

Twenty one years being who I was.
Eleven Weeks to tear it all apart.

I have eleven years in my possession,
All of which I spent loving you,
And drowning in various fantastical obsessions.

I have eleven whispers of regret,
Eleven whispers of doubt,
Eleven whispers of "turn around."

I have eleven months in my possession,
Eleven months of good intentions.

I have eleven screaming words
Piercing my ear drums.
Tell me that you don't care,
You won't care.

I have eleven days in my possession,
Eleven days this will go without mention.

I have eleven needless thoughts,
Pushing and pushing until my eyes flood with tears.
You won't notice.

I have eleven itching scars on just my hands and arms in my possession,
Of all the times I needed someone,
But there was no one to hear my amnesia-esque confessions.