Kelsey Austere

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" i used to write about you so
intensely, so determined that everything i
said would somehow reach you and the ink
would spill in your veins. i used to write
about you with a pinched heart, an ache that
never left my bones, and a crystal tear in
each eye that never wanted to stroll down
my cheeks. i used to write about you, hoping
that the missing-you feeling would pass and
that the visions in my head would be
diminished if i just fucking wrote down how i
felt.
we were partners in crime. we were our own
Bonnie and Clyde, but you decided to get away
with Billie Jean. my hair is falling out and the
tears are streaming like blood down a pure
river. i flushed my rosary, the one you gave
to me, down the toilet and now the toilets
clogged and i don't want to get out of bed to
fix it. i don't even want to call your brother
plumber, but maybe i will and maybe I'll
screw him and leave lipstick kisses on the
places i would leave them on you.
i feel so sick when i get in this cycle, when i
start writing about you again and when
everything just spills out of the glass. but i
still write about you because the therapist
tells me to."

~ Via timidgurl on tumblr. ~

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