Break me

I don't know

You aren't his or hers or theirs; you are mine.

I thought you wanted to be friends forever,

But  you have sold your soul to the devil.

Remember when we used to talk for hours?

Remember the day you gave up on me?

Where did I go wrong? How did I lose you?

 Please do not let Satan tear you apart.

Underneath, I know you still have a heart.

Your soul is not as cold as you pretend.

You are beautiful and perfect and dark.

I will always be obsessed with you, but

I'm sorry; I can't be friends with a demon.

Remember me. Remember me forever.

I know I lost you, but you are still mine.

P.S. Mom, this isn't for you. It's for me. This isn't for you for several reasons. 1 we were never friends. 2 I highly doubt you would have ever considered giving the devil your soul. 3 one could interpret that you gave up on me, which you kind of did, but really you didn't. You died, which means you more than likely gave up on yourself and life, so I wasn't even an afterthought. 4 I don't know where your heart is or what it's like anymore. 5 your soul was never cold. 6 I'm not obsessed with you. 7  obsessively miss you, and that is a completely different thing from being obsessed with you. 8 you're definitely not a demon.

I'm one step closer to becoming like you by writing weird poetry that doesn't make sense. I don't care. I write whatever comes out, and if it comes out like a big splattered ball of puke, then it will be a big splattered ball of puke. Too bad. So sad.