poems, thoughts

Every Weekend We Hitchhike To Hell

It’s been two months since I heard your voice. I can’t say I miss it. Your words made bullet holes that shattered my glass bones.

What’s that Paramore lyric?

“And I don’t pick up when you call
’cause your voice is a gun” 

I can’t say I miss my mosaic of a heart. It felt like the thing to do because when someone says they love you even if there’s a knife in your gut you say I love you back.

What’s that Taylor Swift Lyric?

“Maybe we got lost in translation, maybe I asked for too much,
And maybe this thing was a masterpiece ’til you tore it all up.”

Can you tell I have a playlist that helps me get through the days? The knowing that I miss someone who doesn’t deserve a second thought. The experience of plans that ended in disaster. The memory of every late night and whispered confession that amounted to nothing. The pile of what ifs tied to promises that you never fulfilled.

What’s that Halsey lyric?

“And now I can’t stop thinking that I can’t stop thinking
That I almost gave you everything
And now the whole thing’s finished and I can’t stop wishing
That I never gave you anything”

I look back and I know that I’ll never have what we had again.

“People are people and sometimes it doesn’t work out.” 

I don’t want to replace you. Instead I’ll take what you gave me and use it to make this body, this heart, this soul into something less monstrous.

“I dunno if I’m over you”

“I can’t call you a stranger…but I can’t call you”

“My heart will rest in someone else’s hand”

“Cause I’ll never say I’m sorry but my god I am, I’m sorry”

But I’m happier

so there’s that

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