you've ruined songs, you've ruined restaurants, you've ruined the striped shirt i used to wear on happy days. you're the stain on a white couch i can never remove and will always despise

I couldn't help it; it spread like wild fire, clenching my chest and burning my lungs with the overwhelming anxiety that you've blossomed into the most monstrous thing I've ever encountered

nothing leaves a more sour taste than knowing you miss loving who someone once was and that they've evolved into a stranger

i don't want to know your name
nor do i care who the ******* are, what makes you you
and i don't want to know that you can't eat spaghettios anymore because they made you throw up one time a couple years ago;
i'm not curious about your little secrets
and i certainly dont give a **** about your family tree

and i'll gently hold your face in my hands one more time tonight,
but you shouldn't expect to pick apart my brain after the lights turn on and the music stops playing  

( i watched my sanity drop like a disco ball onto your cement floor into ten million little pieces while the cats licked them off the ground and i just sat there and watched, i couldn't even move. )

spinning on an island sat a little girl in blue,
the ocean gave her nightmares and she didn't know what to do

she never learned to swim so she sat and watched the waves
and when they made her angry her mom would yell "behave"

but how could she control it, her mind would turn to red
each crash would start to mock her, their sound stuck in her head

she'd kick and scream throughout her dreams and wake up on the floor
and cry when she awoke because she'd had this one before

******* she'd yell, AND LET ME BE but cursing was a sin
she'd wash her mouth with soap once more, the sea would always win

and this is how walls get built up a mile high;
when you leave the backdoor unlocked for someone and they come in and step on every precious flower you've been watching grow each morning when you wake-
and you can't tape it back together its just dead

and they spilt red wine all over your white fur and laughed while you frantically tried to clean up the whole **** mess;

give up.

go ahead and smoke a cigarette and give up.
that stain isn't going anywhere and cleaning it won't do a **** thing, will it?

holy hell you're the bad acid trip i never asked for;
the spins after a bad night of drinking or the stranger in the alley way when you're walking home alone.
you were the spam email that wouldn't stop popping up all over my home computer while i yelled at the screen in sixth grade
you're the bad chicken nugget at mcdonalds you bite into and say oh **** what the **** is this and suddenly question if you should make yourself throw up
you're a toothache, headache, heartache, literally any synonym for something terrible or painful.

i have no beautiful words to describe you, no nothing.

the thought of kissing you ever again makes me want to throw up.