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12.16.09

You came to my door yesterday. I peeked through the peephole and saw you standing there, biting your lip and figetting your fingers. I asked who it was, as though I didn't know, just to stall for time.

You said, "Me."

I said, "Well it shouldn't be."

I don't need you on my doorstep dragging out this pain. I know you want me back, but my string has already snapped. You can't play me anymore. And I won't sing for you.

You knocked again, "Just let me in. Please."

I opened the door, realizing that looking you in the eye will actually give me the advantage. You're so fucking meek. Can't even look me in the eye for half a second. I want to grab your hair and force you to look at my face.

See the sorrow babe, see the sorrow. Cry my tears for me maybe, because there's no way I'll unleash them while you're here.

You claim you love me, as though that's a remedy for how fucked up you are. I've put the pieces of your life back together for you three times. Three times more than I should have.

You broke my friendships, dragged me back into my addictions, and never let me sleep a single night until you'd gotten what you wanted. You held me there with emotional abuse.

I don't need you anymore. I've learnt to love myself. This is probably the one thing I'm truly proud of myself for; learning how to love myself. And honestly, you're probably the only thing in my entire life that I'm truly ashamed of.