over

thirty three

i used to think you were the light at the end of the tunnel,

the kind of rain that soothes you,

the feeling of coming home.

i used to think you were so many beautiful things

but you are the sound of a heart breaking,

and the coldness of snow,

and the sound of nails scraping a chalkboard.

i loved you and i was too blind

to realize that you were just using "i love you"

as an excuse to keep hurting me