in tongues. || myg ✓

will he

i'm sitting on the couch. the tv is blasting somewhere in a distant land and my soul feels like it's soaring through space on a bed of xanax. a cigarette is buring between my fingers, but i don't think i've taken one draw off it since i lit it. i miss her. i know she wasn't good for me and i know i hurt her. i still miss her. she was the reason i woke up in the mornings and the reason i started therapy. she did light up my life a lot more than i relaized. i haven't spoken to her since the day she came to retrieve her belongings about two months ago and i haven't been on social media to see how she is. i haven't touched my phone in a week. i lean across the couch and grab my pone, dialing her number. there's knots all up in my chest as the ringer plays. it only rings once before she answers.

"yoongi stop calling me." she sighs. i can hear her eyes roll through the speaker.

"will your tongue still remember the taste of my lips? will your shadow still remember the swing of my hips? i don't need to know. i just want to make sure you're okay." i mumble.

"stop. stop with this weird poetry, trying to be deep, bullshit. i have a boyfriend, yoongi. you need to move on." the word boyfriend sets a fire in my soul i didn't know was possible.

"will he treat you like shit just the way that i did? cause i don't blame you." i slam my finger on the red button the second the words leave my lips. i don't want to know what she has to say. i don't want to hear her speak so highly of a guy who she barely knows. i can't handle it.

i put the cigarette out in the ashtray and pour two more xanax into the palm of my hand, knocking them back. i lay down on the couch, staring at the ceiling as i move farther from the world i've always known. i'm sad and i'm a mess.

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