The words don’t come out right when
I want them to sound some way.
They sit in my chest after leaving my head and
nag my heart to pound away.
I won’t try to make you feel guilty, I just hope it eats you alive.
Because when all was said and done with us,
I didn’t think that I’d survive.
I thought maybe I’d kill myself,
because my life felt incomplete,
I worried I would starve to death.
There was nothing I could eat.
You made me sick with missing you, a nauseated pain,
Every word I wrote for you, choked for you,
turned out to be in vain.
So I hope the running mascara
comes back at you in the form of a
pretty girl’s rejection,
and I hope your cold demeanor comes back
and leaves you without affection.
I hope all the trust of mine you broke
returns to you in pieces,
when someone tells you they love you and
you don’t know how to believe it.