I drive by your house every night and I write down how many days a week her cars parked out front. I take the long way to my work so I can go by yours and I spend my free time in places I know you once were. This isn't my way of mourning, this isn't how I win you back, this is self destruction like 1-2-3-4- boom, like I can't go to my favorite bookstore anymore because of how often we went together so I have two options: sit and obsess or create somebody new and I'm not even sure how I got into this body so how am I supposed to tell my cells to stop what they're doing and recreate? My body has never been one for longitivity, I've never been able to sit still for more than a few minutes without scratching my skin and I almost failed out of high school 6 times before finishing strictly because she was clapping me along and I swear to god my throat is sore from how many times I screamed at the top of my lungs last night, in a car in the middle of the night with a cat a few feet away, screaming ****** ****** because you took all that I had and now you're walking away with the ****** weapon in your back pocket. I have spent months trying to wash your fingerprints off of my heart only to realize once they're gone there will be no evidence left that one point I know I meant something to you. I know that I did. You can give me that smug look all you want but no matter how many times I say I don't believe that you love me, I do, and that's what's stopping this wound from healing. I know this meant something to you, and whether you simply got over me and all the shot I brought to it or you decided to count to three and set it on fire, there's only remains left and I'm the one who's stuck in the ashes, not you. And that is not fair. That is not ******* fair. Don't ever listen to slime one who says it's easier to hate someone than it is to miss them, I'd rather be sad than angry any day. with sadness you lay around for a few hours or days or weeks and listen to the worst songs and drink a lot and smoke a lot and feel nauseous a lot but one day you'll go outside and the sun will touch your skin and you'll see somebody from across the street that is kind of cute and you'll realize why the talk about fishes as if this world is a **** sea, but anger, anger just manifests, it consumes every single part of your body until every ounce of your energy is directed to hating that specific person, anger is pacing the streets in the middle of the night because anger is hiding the hurt, it's hiding the sadness, if you sleep it's never for long enough and when you sleep your teeth are always clenched and your hands always form a fist, you spend your time considering calling considering yelling but not being ready to hear "i don't care, i'll block your number", it's passion in its worst possible form and it's the point you never, ever, ever wanted to reach. but look down. look at your hands. open your mouth, feel your teeth. you're letting this consume you because you don't know how to cope with not being good enough, you're letting yourself waste away, you're letting it matter and you're ruining everything else that could be. you're becoming the person everyone should have figured you would be at the end of this.
Can you tell I'm mad