This list is ugly.

This list is all my frustrations.

I’m so frustrated I’m shaking.

I’m shaking like I’m traumatized.

I’m not.

I think.

Possibly.

 

My hair is longer, I am smarter, and I’m more beautiful.

Ever since I walked away from you it’s felt like my hair is growing faster.

Maybe it’s because I can notice the little things.

The pile of your things.

The posters of artists I no longer like.

The flowers I got for myself.

My dresses.

All things that I’ve brought here.

All things that I enjoyed, but need to retire for good.

Just like you.

But I never enjoyed you for long.

 

My throat hurts from screaming your name.

Screaming to be heard.

I wish you could’ve heard me.

Maybe you would’ve appreciated me if you could’ve seen how beautiful I am when I scream.

When I am heard.

I’m glad I’ll never have to scream for you to hear me again.

Now I can whisper sweet nothings to myself.

I always loved myself more than you anyways

 

I can finally run in the field and be glad you’re not with me then sad.

You would’ve never done it anyway.

Remember when I brought you here? To the field?

You stared at your phone.

If you stared at me maybe I would’ve stayed.

It would’ve been nice if you appreciated my presence as much as I did yours.

But you didn’t.

Because I would’ve stared at you all day.

 

I don’t think you loved me.

Not it an insecure way.

But you genuinely never showed me love without me having to show you love first.

I wanted kisses, playing with my hair, being held while I cry, rants about how much you loved me, something.

I gave you everything that I wanted.

I thought that eventually you would come around.

You didn’t.

 

I wonder if your also thinking the same things as me.

If you’re listening to the same music. (Fiona Apple + Sir Chloe)

Laying in bed trying not to throw up. (I didn’t eat enough today)

I wonder if you’ve had dreams about me.

Last night I had a weird dream. I can’t remember what it was. (You were there)

Today I stood in the shower, my legs weren’t to sore today. (I can’t go outside because of the snow)

In the shower I thought about you. (I was sad)

I wonder is I really am over you or if I’m just not angry anymore. (I’m to tired to be angry)

My heart shakes when thinking about you. (I can’t tell if I want you or not)

The bruises on my knees remind me of you.

 

Sometimes I still expect someone to come and carry me to bed.

Like you did.

I crave that.

Is it wrong that I still think we could work if we tried again?

(I’m depressed)

 

Is it weird that I think of you like your died?

I grieve you as a whole.

Like I will never be able to kiss you again.

 

When I think of us working again

The same scene plays in my mind.

I park in the space I always did.

I’m shaking this whole time.

I walk into your house, panicking.

I sit next to you, shaking, panicking, non verbal.

I hug you while I shake.

You will ask what’s wrong, and I will cry.

Because I don’t know if the shaking will ever stop.

I will power through until I learn to suppress the shaking.

You will hurt me again.

And I will say something only for it to not be fulfilled.

That again and again

And eventually I’ll be nothing.

Only thing I’ll be is yours.

I’ll be a shaking moth in a cracked glass bottle.

 

Is it wrong that I want that?

(Something’s wrong with me)