"She should have died hereafter.
There would have been a time for such a word.
Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
To the last syllable of recorded time,
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing."

~Shakespeare, from 'Macbeth'

they will stop loving you
they will stop missing you
they will stop caring for you
they will stop giving you their time
they will start making excuses
they will start avoiding you
they will start ignoring you
they will start lying to you

And one day they will finally leave you

but just like an idiot
you're still gonna love them unconditionally.

Why can’t you text her 37 times?
In the last hour
Hell, add a couple of calls in between
Knowing that your numbers been blocked
And she’ll never see a single thing
You’re saying. They’re wasted words.
Feel good yet, loser?
****.

Why can’t you check if she’s online?
On that stupid dating website,
Every few minutes.
Trying to figure out the exact moment,
She used it less, and put the pieces together
That she’s met someone else.
****.

Why can’t you find that guy?
That she wouldn’t stop talking about,
Throughout your whole relationship,
And bash his ******* skull in,
With the sharpest edge of the rock
That you seen, while skipping them,
At that park…
You know the one with pond?
When you got ice cream and told her,
This was the happiest you’ve been in years.
You were just reminded of that day
Weren’t you?
****.

Why can’t you let go?
Accept that it’s over, like she told you to,
Months ago while she hung around,
Just to keep you happy.
Even though,
She was always one step ahead…
Sadly, that foot was out the door.
****!

Why can’t you move on?
You’re probably crying again as you read this.
It’s only the fifth breakdown today,
You’re adjusting to the feeling now right?
Maybe the next girl you blow it with will be the one!
There’s a cheerful thought.
But you’ll be too busy thinking about the last,
And you’ll **** it up,
Just like you’ve done, with everyone else since
That day she packed up and moved out.
Because nobody but her, can make you feel,
How she felt, along with those stupid 2pm calls,
When she was on break at work
So what if they woke you up?
That Is what kept you going, because
Her voice  was music to your ears
When the rest of the world was nothing but noise.
****!

After the realization hits that she was the one,
And you’ll never do better.
That You’re just a mentally ill, ex to her..
The one that she tells to every guy she meets,
How you would call 37 times in a row,
16 missed calls in the morning,
And a dozen emails you wrote during
Those key moments,
When everything was falling apart.
And because she wouldn’t reply once.
...You put the *** in harrassment...

You probably think you’re better off dead
Well, you’re right.
…. ****.

I always feel two steps behind
No matter what the topic at hand
Even things I'm sure that I'm sure of
You can break down that certainty
Within seconds

Make me doubt the person
That I know myself to be
I dare you
Convince me that I am someone else
Because I'm stubborn until I'm afraid

Afraid to be laughed at
Afraid to be judged
Afraid to be made into a fool

So I take the initiative and laugh it off
Because declaring "I'm just an idiot",
"I don't know anything about anything"
Or simply keeping my mouth shut
Is far easier than hearing it elsewhere

love is a weird thing.
love wrapped his arms around you sometimes like always and
maybe this is what the hopeless romantics meant when they said sometimes home is not a place
love is like religion
where the worshippers would never hesitate to jump from the highest mountain to the lowest surface of the ocean
your head will bleed and you will still carve smiles using your lips, followed by the eyes and say thank you
how silly-
when he smiles
all the wilt flowers come back to life and bloom
and bloom
and bloom like its a spring season in december
its august and its rainy here but flowers
they last longer when he grins from ear to ear
like a silly man, like a precious silly bean
when he laughs
the chaos in my mind disappear
all the tics and all the screams up there just went quiet
its the moment of contentment
i wish to last
maybe not forever but give me a moment.
i can't stand eye contact
so i stare at him when he's not looking
and oh dear god
if this is a dream, i wouldn't mind trapped here
i wouldn't mind encounter the demons i see in the corner of my bed
i would approach them, shake their hands like an old friend
as long as i can be with him
for a little longer
but
when those lips spill the word love
i don't recognise it
h e l p me-
hate is the opposite word of love and
my doubts are loud
i hate the fact that my doubts are draining his love for me
my eyes are covered
and my ears are being plugged with earphones whispering he's lying.
my love,
i love you
i'm scared of heights but i'm an idiot and i would jump from the highest mountain in the name of love.
please-
i said please-
do not get tired of me
i want to trust you
let me put my trust on you
i'm trying.
i promise.

I died yesterday, by my own hand,
And now here I am;
Standing like a ******* idiot in my kitchen,
And craving cornflakes.

The reasons why I did it seem hazy now;
All the buttoning and unbuttoning seemed to much,
Or else a love had left me,
And now I can't even grasp a bowl.
Stupid! That's what it is! Pure stupidity!
And I just want some ****** Crunchy Nut!

The bathrooms off-limits now;
It just makes me angry to see myself lying there,
No longer able to help anyone, least of all myself,
And that body didn't seem to care
About my cereal lust.

So here I am; staring at the cupboard,
But unable to open it,
and I don't even know if there's
any cereal left in the ****** thing anyway.
All those stupid myths about ghosts walking
Through walls was wrong apparently;
I'm just slowly fading away.

So here I am; craving cereal like a spoon.
The stupid spoon that I'm unable to grasp;
That seems to chortle, facelessly, at my attempts.
And being forever angry at that
Stupid idiot in the bathroom
For whom I feel nothing but contempt.

Should I have fought?
I fight for everything in life
I fight to live the life I want.
I fight stupid bar arguments,
Things that often mean nothing.
But if I loved you,
Truly loved you,
Wouldn't I have fought?
Did you want me to?
Do you lie awake thinking about it?
Do you think I'm spineless?
Does your faith in my love waver?
Do I cherish friends over you?
Or do I respect old ceremonies?
I probably should have fought.
It'll be on my mind forever.
We both would have regretted it.
Regret would have been unbearable.
I can live with my regret.
Its unfair to ask for the same of you.
I do truly love you.

I want to tell you how much I hate you
But really, I can't-
I love you too much.
And in the end,
of all of the lessons you've ever taught me,
It's that words don't really matter.
Nothing I ever did mattered.
Art fades.
Words are empty.
Promises are meaningless.
I hope he makes you *** more than I ever could.
I hope he buys you flowers more than once a month.
I hope he gets you farther away from this town
where dreams die
than you could have ever hoped for.
I hope you call him handsome
and that you think he's pretty.
Like I had to beg for.
I hope the only thing bigger than his member
is his bank account.
I hope he calls you exactly when you need him to
not always
like I used to do.
I hope you never block him out
and give him the love that you're truly capable of.
Because I never got it.
I hope you heal his wounds and
kiss him while he's asleep in your arms
because there's no place you'd rather be.
I hope that you feel the way about him
that I used to feel about you.
I hope he calls you his princess,
his dolly,
his 3 a.m.
I hope you scream "daddy"
into the blackness of your trash bag
darkened basement.
The one you used to lock me in and complain
that we never did anything.
I hope you give him all of the truths
you weren't willing to give me;
and that you mean them.
I hope you never get your heart broken.

I so much want for you to have someone
that doesn't have any responsibilities
other than you.
Because you need someone
that doesn't have lifelong friends
or a connection with their family
or worries about whether or not thier
future will be brighter than their past.
I hope he picks out a favorite freckle.
And I hope it's not the same one as me.
And if it is, I want him to love it more than I ever did.
When you argue,
which you will,
because that's who you are,
I hope he knows how to accept your anger.
Your hurt.
Your torment

and unhappiness.

The way I might have
if I was a stronger or smarter man.
The way way I do now that you're gone.

I was never your number one.
You were.
And that's what's important
in a world full of people trying to hurt you.

I've had nightmares
every single ******* night
since I lost you.
But those are not half as bad
as the good dreams my brain likes to create
to play tricks on me-
where 'forevers' meant something
and nothing mattered but each other.

Yeah, I'm a natural-born ******* loser.
I'm fat,
crying,
and screaming.
A *******-born child
to a family that didn't want me
except for one.

When you told me you cared
that you wanted to kiss me,
**** me,
love me,
while your boyfriend was
in another town
and I believed you-
that was my first mistake.

Because you can't really love
two people at once,
especially when the only person you've ever really loved is you.

Either way.
I hope you get what you need.
Because my mind
heart
body
and
stupid pitiful
******* soul
was never enough.
And it never will be.

How many more until you're full?

I hope you find the one
that wasn't me.
And that he can buy you
that house in California
on the beach.
The one with the white picket fence.
Far from yourself
and everything you've ever known.