This whole damn book is about you

January 2017

I feel overwhelmed. The number of people who would care if I exist is shrinking at an alarmingly fast rate. Who knew when you would leave me for something better. I guess I should of known, my long track history of being abandoned. God I'm so sick of you and the feeling of rot you give me. I'm changing from sorrow to anger, hung up over you for so long, now i'm trapped in this state of melancholy. I don't want to be dead not really I just want to be over you. You're this cancerous tumor spreading through my body, my heart aches for a time that use to be, for words well long said.  Out of all of this ruble I'm still fucking stunned that year's and year's of us meant nothing to you.  The amount I've bled for you is inhumane, if you asked me to jump I would without a "why" on my lips. You wouldn't even pick up the phone when I asked. Is your heart so blind that you can't see me begging for your warmth. I forgot you're ice, you don't care about me you never did.