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We filled the room with
music that ran through our veins
as we sat on the floor and cried
because of all the people who dug
their claws so far into us
and then ripped them out
so fast
without any warning.
We drank straight from the
bottle of ***** like it was going to
tell us why they left when we got to
the bottom of it.
My best friend ripped all the
pictures she had of him off her
wall and threw them in the garbage.
And i thought to myself
"if only feelings were as easy to
get rid of as ripping pictures
of the people who hurt us off
the walls."
Then i thought to myself how
many times i would have ripped
your picture off the wall
if i had to do it everytime you
hurt me, but also how many times
i would be taping them back up
when you say sorry.
I had millions of stars
inside of me when you
first met me.
You managed to put
out every single one by
the time you left.
With your words,
broken promises,
and fists.
But did you think these
galaxies would never re-light
and burn brighter than before
when you left?
You will never fully put
out this flame.
My bones shattered beneath
my skin.
My rib cage could no longer
hold my heart steady.
The blood rushed
through my body.
And I had to force myself
to take a deep breath
one last time.
Theres no way I could
break like this again.
I dropped to my knees
and thought to myself
"I can't possibly
do this anymore."
And I swear that night
I could have drowned myself
in the shower.
I thought to myself,
"I can't be with him, because
I am in love with someone else."
And I did not come up with this conclusion
because I was waiting for that someone
to come around.
I knew that wasn't going to happen.
But I did it because it would not be fair.
I would lay with him at night
and wish he was that other someone.
While he had soft skin
and lips
just like that other someone,
I would still only imagine it being
that someone.
And I constantly thought
to myself
"I can't do that to him."
Yes, he puts stars in my sky,
but the stars of that other
someone burned so much brighter
in that same sky.
I just can't seem to let him go.
You crawl under my skin without even realizing
what you're doing.
Every time I tried to shed
myself of you,
you always ******* came back.
Every time I said to myself,
"this is it, this is the end."
You always snuck back in
and wrapped your arms
tightly around me.
You are an addiction to me.
It's killing me so slowly.
So painfully.
And you didn't even know it.
Because you will never feel the same.
This death is slow and this death hurts.
But I'll take every minute of it
just for a few happy seconds with you.
You are ****** in a human form.
You are whats going to end me.
You have hurt me so many times
so whats that point in coming back?
Every time you hurt me
you always made sure I was
still okay, and I hated that.
You would apologize and apologize
and you wouldn't let me leave
until we were okay.
But this time I knew
it would only happen again.
You insisted on driving me home
the first time you actually saw
that you made me cry.
And you said your sorrys
and compliments the whole
way back and even
the next morning.
I didn't get it because you
and I both know that
you should have just let me go.
But we seemed to both have
a hard time letting each other go.
For two people who are
suppose to be just friends,
we make fires
and everyone around us watches
us go up in flames every single time.
And he's so good at pretending
to care,
so good at it.
He makes me believe him
every single time.
But let me just tell you
this time is different.
Because maybe I'll
be the one to let go.
Last night was the last straw.
Words pour out of my veins
out through my eyes.
I'm walking poetry.
I feel words in
my bones
under my skin.
Almost like sometimes
I might burst.
I take in words
like pure ecstasy.
Words are ecstasy.
The way a combination
of letters can move
mountains,
the way a combination
of letters can be a breath of fresh air.
The way reading a combination
of nothing but letters
can bring the sun out
on my darkest days.
I write because I feel
the urge in me.
I write because it's the
only way anyone will listen
to me.
I write because these words
can crawl through
your skin
and make you crave more.
Like one of the sweetest
forms of intimacy.
I write because somedays
I'm sure that I have nothing else.
I write because I am
a storm.
I write because
to me
It's how I breathe.
When I write,
I can finally be free.
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