009 – time

you asked me, that friday,

how i could’ve changed

if i had friends like mine

that loved me like they did.

 

that question was loaded

like a revolver filled

completely with real bullets

in a game of russian roulette.

 

you

absolute

fucking

bastard.

 

what did you(r bitch ass) mean

when you said that

about me,

about my friends?

 

do you mean

that in the four months

we’ve spent apart

not one part of me has changed?

 

do you mean

that there’s something wrong

with the people

who care for me so fiercely?

 

do you mean

that i don’t deserve

someone to hold me

when i’m alone?

 

because for each and every one

of the reasons i can think of

my answer is

fuck you.

 

fuck you

and everything you stand for

and everyone that supports you

and everything you’ve done

 

because you detest that i’m not doing

as fine as you want me to

so you can feel better about yourself

for leaving me to die,

 

because you lie to everyone

and everything

that has ears

about me,

 

because i gave you my heart

and my body

and my secrets

and you couldn’t even buy me a fucking cheesy potato bake one time.

 

the friends you look down on,

that you gossip about in your hushed schoolboy way,

did more for me in one month

than you did in three.

 

yeah,

i could do better than you;

the saddest thing is

that i don’t want to.

 

just know that

i can live without you,

but

i barely feel alive.

 

know that sometimes

when i think of you

i wish

i’d just have died

 

the day i left you

because fuck you

for leaving a hole in my heart

larger than me

 

in the shape of you

a month from sixteen

sitting in the middle

of my heart.

 

i’ll live without you,

i’ll find someone that cares,

when i stop wanting

that someone to be you.

 

i just need time.

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