cherry eyes

ugh! what have i done | c

i was doing fine until you (did anything) and now my chest is closing in on me. whatever it is, it is on the tip of my tongue and i put my finger on it. with a predicted diagnosis as always, they name my love stupid! they name it desperation! they name it unrequited!

rolling my eyes at the cliché, i am squashed to death by its undeniable presence that, like you (much to my dismay), does not want to fucking leave me alone (even though you've left long ago).

let's see what you're up to, shall we? – my cordless home phone sits nervously against my ears and it screams for me not to stoop this low again. you do not pick up after the third ring and i throw the baby pink machine across the room. it sighs in relief.

to text or not to text? it is the next victim, regardless, and i laugh maliciously. i feel poetry sizzle in my veins.

i still think of you more often than you think of weed and alcohol and sex and i want to set myself on fire. Sent 2:04 am.

this was not how it was supposed to end. no, i am not high; i just love you and my heart is meant to be rich in floral and fucking fruit-bearing but currently, it is rich in blood and other pathetic human substances. it is bearing strawberry pulp, you asshole. Sent 2:05am.

it is when i am crying on the kitchen floor and wine is staining my carpet that i realise; now i know why you want nothing to do with me.

- oh ! what i would do; to start afresh with you.