i told myself to be strong. when the sun seeped through my windows the morning after you left me i allowed lies to seep from my lips. even though i didn’t believe a single promise i made i still etched them into my skull. i told the girl in the mirror that she was glorious and beautiful and bright as i painted over the impurities cursing her body. every lonely night i held my own hand. swaddled the pieces of my broken soul with these two arms. i kissed my own lips and washed your name out of my mouth with bleach. i bared the weight of titanium screws and rebuilt every broken bone you left me with. i put myself aside unable to deal with the immensity of the situation. i felt small without you. small enough to crawl into my head and sit patiently. patiently while i analyzed the thousands of moments extended across my lifetime that id ruined. i flipped through pages upon pages of smiles that no longer belonged to me. i blamed myself for it all. over night; i changed.
i grew brighter, bigger, pushed everyone out of my life to give me more room. i stood on tables in bars and danced in the street and screamed off rooftops at 3am. but when i went home i sat quietly in the corner sipping on sadness. i grew fonder of being alone. with grief stricken eyes i would glare at the girl id placed on the shelf months back. was that really me? her skin looked so peachy and her eyes seem to glow. i used to assume that shes still adored you. i envied that part of her.
when you came back you whispered promises into my ear. you held my hand and kissed my lips. you swaddled me in your arms and asked me to trust you. i think that i do.
but there she sits on the shelf, reminding me of what you did. her eyes do not glow anymore; her skins as pale as the ghost of my infatuation for you. even though she is silent i can hear her screaming, begging my eyes to stop glowing at the sound of your name. i know that you’re no good. i know that i should leave.
but i dont know how.