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i pray to any god who will listen,
any god that will guide me to him and not away,
any god who will heal us and have us grow together.
because no matter who we pray to, we should have always been together.
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he’s everything to me and nothing all at once.
he gave me a world to stand on, a future as bright as his smile.
but he took that all away over night.
he was, no is my becoming and undoing.
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im sorry.
im sorry.
im sorry.
that’s the one thing that everyone seems to keep saying to me and i don’t know what to do
hearing the words and receiving the apologise has become so frequent, so normal, i don’t know if they are sorry anymore,
why am i only good for the sorry’s why do people always have to hurt me to the point of having to say sorry again and again.
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just when i think i’m getting good again,
i get bad.
i’ll spend the day before cleaning my room, making everything immaculate and perfect,
then the days and weeks after,
i’ll spend in an uncontrollable dark raging mood, cold, incurable, empty,
then after a few weeks the cycle starts again and again.
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why do i keep thinking you’ll come back?
i know you’re with her,
i see the pictures, i read the comments, i watch the videos,
so tell me why deep down i have a foolish man’s hope thinking you’ll comeback
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i kept the shirt,
the one you loved,
i sleep in it on the nights i miss you most,
and when i do my test i’ll wear it just like you did,
you said it made you feel close to me,
i wear it knowing the last time you wore it,
you loved me
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i told a girl at work about you today,
i told her of all your bad,
it hurt.
it hurt me to say it out loud,
to hear my voice say all the things you did,
all the impacts you had,
nothing can ever fix the pain.
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im over you i swear, maybe not on a whole but i am,
except that one part of me,
deep down beneath it all,
that one goddamn part yearns for you like no other,
it tricks that rest of me into relapsing.
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i lie to myself every night,
wearing your shirt telling myself you’ll comeback,
but you’re never coming back
not really.
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i want a love like in the movies,
why should i be given these visuals and representations of what love should be like only to be told that they are not attainable,
why should i be told too accept the love men and boys give me because they are too lazy to love me anymore than the minimum,
because if they really truely loved me, it would be like the movies,
it would be like our own movie.
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happy one year to the boy i’ll never love again,
365 days ago i was sitting in my bed excited for the day that awaited, the day i’d get to spend entirely with you,
and now 365 days from that day, you’re happily with someone else and i’m still stuck on the sorry excuse of you.
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i think something scary for me,
is that now i don’t feel like i need anyone anymore,
i don’t want people around me anymore,
i don’t want to have to go through the small talk and the pet names, explaining my hurt and my dreams, i don’t want to have to open up again, i don’t have the strength to.
maybe i’ll spend the rest of my life alone,
im prepared for that,
because people aren’t worth it anymore
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i’ll be completely honest,
i don’t think i made that big of a difference to my exes life, in both presence and absence. not that i saw or get to see anyways, maybe one day we will run back into each other’s lives and i’ll see it, but i honestly don’t mind if that day never comes, most parts of me hope it never does anyways.
it’s kinda sad, to think that my all was wasted on someone who didn’t recognise all i had to offer or really want me in their life despite all my efforts.
i know people love in different ways and maybe he did love me deep down somewhere inside, but i honestly think he loved the idea of having me, of my attention being only and all for him, of my world coming to a stop at a simple word falling from his mouth.
i think he liked the control he had, he liked how he could tell me every bad thing about him, all the red flags and more and me being completely blinded by teenage love looking past it, finding an excuse for everything and allowing it to be ok.
i cant be mad at him for tell me he was completely selfish, maybe it was a warning just to get it off his conscience so he didn’t feel bad after using me then dumping me, a warning hidden within conversations made fuzzy with heavy eyelids at hours too early and late.
in the end he was telling the truth, he was selfish.
- a conversation with myself
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somebody has to be the hot ex who had a glow up after the break up.
i intend to be the hot ex but,
due to some unforeseen delays it’s taking a little longer than i anticipated.
the hot ex… coming summer 2021
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you smile at her like you used to smile at me,
im sure you kiss her the same ways,
and take her to the same places we went to,
HA do you get déjà vu,
cos baby it’s all reused
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and here i am again,
on call with another guy who isn't you,
sitting, waiting for him to be half as interesting,
waiting for him to laugh at my jokes,
but he won't
because he's not you and it'll never be the same
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i may not forget you today or tomorrow,
but i will forget you,
i’ll forget all the promises, the late nights and early mornings, the laughs and the smiles, the stolen glances and quick kisses, i’ll forget it all,
but i’ll remember, the crying, the pain, the missing, the feeling of complete loss and hurt,
that is all that will remain of the little home we built together
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