You sat in front of me tensely; shaky hands, quivering lips, splintered voice, I almost believed you for a second
I’m not looking for an apology. I’m not looking for love. I’m just looking out for myself
Your hair tangled like barbed wires, dirty fingernails agitatedly running through it in an attempt to search for an answer—why? Why not?
I’ve heard the same dialogue before. It tastes the exact same way it did when I woke up this morning and felt only cold bedsheets and bitter advil on my tongue, spit it out
Betrayal. Is that what you called it? Is that how badly you think of me? Dirty traitor. Is that what I am?
The viselike grip on my throat slowly tightens, leaving just enough space for a final dignified gasp. The wooden chair creaks an inch
But you kicked it over. Swinging like autumn leaves, a bit dramatic. I did it all for you. Surely you must have. Let’s see them figure you out without a crumpled note to tell them why
Because I honestly don’t know either, dear. Whiskey and aftershave makes me feel dizzy and I can’t think clearly. Have to t h r o w – u p
Bruises line the bathroom wall and I stumble over your slippery tears. Were you listening behind the door, when I was crying my face out? Yes. Quite wet. A quick shower doesn’t sound so bad. Might get rid of all the nasty stains on my shirt
Fucking crazy bastard, you spitefully whisper on the other side of the fogged-up glass, and I can’t help but smile back, diamond girl
Isn’t that why you fell for me?