My life had got colder, seeping itself into numbness.
Coping wasn't possible or needed
because if I just slept or drank or took some sort of drug
I was okay
I thought we were both going to get stronger.
And a huge part of me bets I wasn't missed
when we pretended the other didn't exist.
I don't exist.
I wanted to feel something and at the same time
I was grateful that I couldn't.
  I couldn't stand to be here
wishing you'd make another account to talk to me
seeing if you'd just try a little harder
to keep me
or to get me back
but you told me that if we argued and I left the room
You'd just let me go.
I should have kept that in mind then
you said you loved me
And I wonder what love means
I always assumed it meant the will of risking all for one another
without the need to
I lost it and threw myself
to the ground
for the tears to pour
or at least trickle
and I couldn't even make the expression.
I left because of my own attitude mixing with yours
and I was too clingy.
Codependency is a ***** I think.
Not fair like Karma.
I left because I couldn't take the feeling of not being loved
I was so used to you loving me completely
I left because I didn't think you cared
and after Justin, I thought I knew better.
Even if I didn't show it
it killed me
and it's still killing me inside and out.
Istillloveyou.
Just know I'd still take you back
I just can't stop writing
without mentioning you.
but since it's poetry, I can do whatever I want
so I'm weaving you into every word
every space
every sound and meaning
Sydney Sydney Sydney

I feel empty when you go.
Even cooking is lonely when you are not here. What’s the point?
How can I be an entire human being?

I blast music in my headphones-
When they scream-
I can still hear the silence
(I can’t drown it).

I miss you.
Please stay with me.
Please do not leave.

My anxiety hurts.
My hands are shaking as I write this, it’s almost unreadable, and the page is wet
And the words disappear a little.

I’m still cooking.
What do you do yourself when you’re done?


It hurts.
I want to cry.
I think I will.

-Jesse Haydn

i thought i wasn't over it
but i just needed to give you closure -
an explanation of my sickness
and why i had to say, "it's over".

you would think it was your own sickness
that drove me to rediscover mine -
not the ways you would block the door,
desperate for more time.

the way you gripped my wrists
as you threw me on the bed
misplacing the once comforting dominance,
and making a mess of my head..

someone who was once so safe
and so gentle with his touch
turned into a frightening, scary version
of someone i try not to think about much.

i know that wasn't you that day,
or maybe it was you all along;
i try not to remember much about that version of you,
but it was then that you taught me to be strong.