Apparently, I’m not good enough.
So you push back on my prospects.
We all must live with our choices, until the end of our lives.
I’m not here.
I’m a figment of your imagination.
Even the sweetest moments were lost.
Know that back then…I never thought this was possible.
I envisioned a delusion.
Know that I died that day.
Know that I was buried in a capsule of bullshit.
Know that my last thoughts were of the good times you conjured up.
No additional information.
No subliminal memes on my status updates.
No cryptic tweets.
No handwritten letters.
No obvious notion.
No phone call.
No dreams about cutting you up into tiny pieces, seasoning you with a pinch of salt and a cup of pepper and feeding you to a murder of CROWS.
*I simply blocked and deleted your connections to me.
You found a bitch while receiving my magic. You were healing when you found a bitch.
I say, ‘fuck your new love that you think you’ve found, and since you keep making contact I know she’s not profound.’
You awarded her credit for the hard work I put in with you.
I’m just saying, ‘you’ll never do better.’
Tell you that you’ve read that lately?
I’m not hating, I’m just stating. FACTS!
My homie said you’re a crazy fucking USER.
That was the first time in a long time I laughed until I cried.
I thought about our conversation and felt compelled to share my emotions with you.
I like you.
Well, I think I do?
My hair is a mess and my face is full of spots, but you said you didn’t care, ‘Unique, you’re beautiful.’
I have walls up and I feel you trying to break them down. I’m not sure how I feel about that, I don’t know if I want love around.
It was on a dating site we matched, chatted and exchanged numbers.
We went on to exchange sounds.
Exchange new desires.
Exchange old likes.