The Furthest Thing From Poetry.

• monachopsis •

I'm confused.
You're gone
I'm not over you
I cry a lot
I get mad at myself a lot
And at Them
But at least
They died with you
They will no longer torture you
Screaming lies into your ear
Lies that drill
Into
Your
Brain
Until you can't think anymore.
They say the world is better off without you.
But I know better.
However
You chose them over me
Now you're gone.
I count the days since...
It happened.
I was too late.
I'm so sorry
I tried
You tried
We failed.
See you later.