As i stand in front of the stain of vomit on my carpet, i decide today isn’t a good day.
Today isn’t a good day.
I can feel myself bleeding.
The apartment feels so big with you gone. What was once cozy, now felt intruding and vast. I used to find comfort in the four walls enclosing my room. But now i feel suffocated , four walls are four too many but one too little.
I keep rearranging the chairs in the living room, but I still cant remember how you liked them. I keep buying that cherry pie you liked al though i hate the crust. I cant remember your face, but I remember your hands dancing upon my skin. I cant remember you, oh god, but you take up all my thoughts.
It feels improper to hang out in the main of the apartment and call it the living room. As when you left me my heart stopped beating. And I haven’t been living since you heaved that last breath, since you took that last step. And when your last gaze held melancholy, and looked into my eyes, i had instantly known our fire had burned out tradgedly and my fingers tips had gone grey.
I can feel myself splitting apart. Every nerve being set on fire, and every breath i take, agony fills me. I know it’s pain because pain is familiar to me. I’ve known it inside and out for years and years. And I’ve been mad at it, oh so mad. I would stand in the middle of my room and scream, begging the pain to release the hold it has on me. But sometimes i find comfort in it, as it reminds me I’m alive. Although I’m not living, I’m breathing.
Today its raining. Fat gross droplets of water clogging my airway are falling from the grey that bit into the once blue sky.
It hasn’t stopped raining since you left. Maybe the sky is crying too. Perhaps we are both missing something that could’ve been, had i noticed the cracks in your facade.
It’s a gross declaration of my love for you from the way my lungs collapse when I breathe. The gap in between my thighs and the blood running down my wrists. Its ugly, and horrific. But love is never beautiful. And I haven’t been doing a good job of existing these days.
I always thought broken hearts would be easy. But the lingering burn at the tips of my lungs prove its stubborn. The pain rattles in my chest, like melting ice cubs in a cup. And every breath i take the ice cuts into my lungs, making every inhale as shaky and wet as my blood. And every exhale my lungs collapse in ward like a dying star.
And everything hurts. A dull ache that only hurts because you know it should.
I beg my ribs to shatter, only so they could stitch themselves back together and fix me.
Sometimes i scream out your name so much i feel my edges bleeding.
Sometimes i get so exhausted i feel myself melting.
Sometimes I can’t breathe.
I’m not me without you.
But not in a good way.
Sometimes I’m so in pain
And lost
And broken
And fragile
Chipped away at like broken china. I wish you could caress my creases.
fix me , fix me , fix me
why did you leave me ?
i wish you had believed
me.