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i cant walk past the old cemetery we walked through together.
i can’t listen to the music we used to listen to together.
you used to be my #1, you used to be my ride or die.
i can’t laugh about the things we used to laugh about, i can’t think about the things we used to think about.
yet i still do, i walk past that cemetery with a knife in my side, pushing deeper with every step,
i listen to the music with bloodied ears, dripping down my neck, onto my shoulders,
i laugh about the things we used to laugh about with a hoarse withered voice,
i think about all things we did together my brain rotting with each passing minute
yet it doesn’t bring me joy like it used to..
it brings me a weird feeling i cant always explain, it brings soft drip noises and rough sniffles from the darkness of my new room.
i couldn’t sit in that old one, and not think about you.
i thought about you in the morning, the night, and everything in between, you made me feel loved, and you’ve made me feel hated.
but i have to find joy in the things we used to do,
because, if not..
was it all wasted time?
