so now i finish
this one story
not with a suicide,
but with a revolution.
i am finished.
i am finished with
remembering your touch
your lips
your hands on my waste
your big brown house
your ripped t shirts.
im finished with
your comments
your mockery
your popularity breaking me.
im finished with
your mouth pressed against mine
though i refused
your empty words
hiding the lies
in your comfort.
im finished with
your tricks and tips and turns
yout heartbreak
which has killed me
every single day since you left.
i am finished with
your screams
your slams
your tired eyes
and smokey fingers
sewing it all back together
before breaking it again.
i am finished with
your snickers
your decision to chose others before your friends
your haunting beauty
that turns you inside out.
i am finished with the
over thinking
and the tears
and the memories
and the night mares
and the tear stained, crumpled
sticky notes
