He was never mine to begin with
Except I'd always thought love for me,
would come with road trips and hand in hand walks on the beach,
And maybe, boat rides.

All these happened,
out of the context of love.

I know me well enough to know what love would feel like,
Thing is, we're not lovers.
How do I feel all these things in the warmness of his touch and overpowering hugs?

How are we almost Lovers and yet one hundred percent just friends?

I jammed my gun on purpose-
I just needed you to notice me, and how I hurt.

I knew the knife was too dull-
I just wanted to feel beautiful.

I knew the pills would only make me sick-
I just wanted someone to help me through all this ****.

I knew the rope wasn't strong enough-
I just wanted to feel stronger for once.

I knew you would give up on me one day-
I just had one last thing to say:

I'm unjamming my gun because I'm finally unhinged.
I'm going to sharpen my knife to cut like your words.
I'm looking for the right meds to swallow and hold it in.
I'm buying stronger rope because I'm tired of this curse.

Before my chair tips over, I'll say this once:
I loved you.
I would die for you.
That's exactly what I plan to do.
You'll never have to hear me cry or console me again.
*Goodbye, my run-away friend.