current emotion: lumpy bird drawn with touchpad on ms paint at midnight
one time i forced my mom to play pokemon for at least half an hour and all she did was catch a butterfree and name it lowfat
'Why do they call it heartbreak? Your heart can’t really break can it?'
I look at little kids and some more spills out.
They don’t know. They don’t get it.
‘What does it feel like?’ they ask with eager eyes and open minds.
I stare at my ceiling and listen to a love song. I turn to the side so they don’t see me crying.
‘Like you’re dying,’ I say, and a little more seeps out.
They call it heartbreak because yes, your heart really does break.
I saw you with her and my hands began to quake.
You gazed at her with a smile and the pieces splintered out of place.
Her yellow hair falls flat. Her eyes look like dirt.
She’s utterly ordinary, but you love her.
‘How does it feel to know he chose her over you?’
I’m sobbing and I don’t really know what to do.
You become silent. The world keeps on turning, but somehow I’m stuck in the same spot – yearning, and never really learning.
‘All men are the same,’ my mother sighs.
I kept my heart open to love,
And you greeted my open arms with knives.
You tore apart the cracks and now I’m gushing,
And the blood,
Down my chest, onto my feet, one drip at a time, and now the whole floor is a goddamn mess.