ᵐ ⁱ ˢ ˢ ᵉ ᵈ ᶜ ᵃ ˡ ˡ •

ᵉ •

when i get angry, it somehow manages to overtake take over all my other emotions,
all of my being.

some inflict pain on others, but i, i inflict it upon myself.
and that's the type of thing people i love hate about me, i know you did.

as childish and cliché as it must sound, my words begin to come out in stutters, so i hit my cheeks and jaw in hopes the words will come out smoothly.

i tug violently at strands of my hair, hoping that maybe just maybe it will initiate a chemical in my brain that will somehow make me understand.

i punch my thighs;
bite the insides of my cheeks;
hit my fists against the solid walls of my bedroom.

i find a sense of irony in the way how now everything i seem to do leads back to you.
never before has such a violent contradiction that follows your departure from your life hit me with such a striking realisation.

everything now seems to lead back to you, and how i wasn't there when you needed me.

if feels like almost a sense of  spite from your part,
as much as i loved you,
you were a spiteful being.

that just because i didn't answer that phone, your very existence and what your life could have been will haunt me through this life.

i hum your name as the blade digs into my thigh,
the letters of your name neatly carved into my flesh.

you refuse to let me forget, so now your name will forever be intricately carved into the person you claimed to love.
even if you never ever did.

but i guess we'll never know.

i'm sorry.
i love you.