Excerpt from a Book I will Never Write

105

I'm planning the end of us before we have even laid in the hole of our graves 

because I feel the cracked ribs from your sweaty touch

 and I can see you drowning in me from a mile away

 because I'm not the romantic type and (s)he likes to be held

 and I'm more suicide notes and 17 missed calls than I am "I love you too" and you're in my bedroom 

and I'm in the bathroom trying not to swallow all these pills because I always seem to choke on the I love you part and I feel heartbreak in my throat before its even happened

 and you'll fall out of love with me and you'll forget the way I looked but I'll never forget you....

I'll remember every fucking detail.

Don't fucking touch me, don't fucking say you loved me.