watery-pancake

[watery-pancake]

i wonder if you remember those times. today its so natural. you ask my day, i ask yours. i ask questions, so many, for a world i can never quite grasp. your world, of which, ive always wanted to become immersed with.

do you remember when you used to yell? not speaking loud, but rather in that demeaning tone. when my questions were always too much. no matter how light my steps were, i always cracked the eggshells beneath my toes. and thus, the gut- wrenching feeling of once again being misunderstood began. of why i am so nosy. petty. annoying. shut up. shut up. shut up.

i look at you today, and ask you a million more, and yet no matter how hard i stomp, the carpet envelops me with warmth, compassion, knowing that i am full of love and love is full of me. i still do not understand what changed. how the 3 weeks of torment for 1 week of your heaven became an eternal nirvana. what mess of words did i jumble together for you to see me as me? which way did i apply my makeup for you to see my eyes only look at you, even when you only looked for others? what tone did i create for you to hear my voice only sings for you? i will never understand.

it is once again, tonight, where i stay up later than i should, and recall these excruciating moments. no matter how strong my drink is, i can never damage my brain enough to forget them. no matter how damaged my lungs become, i can never seem to alleviate the anxiety they cause. for what am i, but the brains to your brawn. the calculations to your plan. the knowledge behind your smooth words. i was once the shadow cast by your light, and finally, i can stand beside you and feel the love i dreamed for. for humans sought the warmth of the heavens and fell from the tower of babel, i have felt your scorching flames to feel the comfort of the cold.

am i meant to find the comfort in this snow? where my skin is now covered in scars? am i meant to forget how the fire burned my nerves, where i can only feel this breeze against my eyes?

in the first few months, i dreamed constantly of you. i thought of you to sleep, and thought of you in the morning peeking through my window. i desperately wanted the love you once had. i can never stop this rotten brain from the jealousy of your first love. monthly gifts. a first love. a first time with someone you loved. a heartbreak that you felt deep in your soul, even by your own hand. a constant search for the one you lost. i craved it more than life itself. i fell into a deep suicidal drift, knowing what she was to you is something i could never be. maybe that is what caused you so much resentment towards me? that i was so alike to her, it angered you, and that hand fell hard to my heart. a love letter, flowers, thoughtful gifts. all things you gave to her, but not to me. and i still wait for you, in the cold of a train station, in the burning summer heat, around the block of your home, in the college where we shared passionate kisses and words of affection, in my own bed. there is not a place we have been to that i have not waited for you at least once. and i continue to wait, for wounds do not heal the second they are cut.

i wonder how she would have felt, seeing the man you are today. pride in being right? jealousy that no matter how hard she tried it's only something my present self can experience? i feel envy for my own self, that the lover girl i once was has become this woman. capable of waiting for a text without a panic attack. capable of hearing you type for solid minutes without fearing the (inevitable) worst. capable of loving you without becoming obsessive once again. the love bombing has ceased, and become a consistent kind of love. seeing '---- liked your tweet/ repost' and i feel this wound has stopped hurting. hearing the words 'i miss you' and feeling the wound has ceased bleeding me dry. feeling you pull me close, not out of lust, but out of need to be closer to me? and the wound has healed.

but the scar remains. it has numbed, compared to my uncut skin. it it capable of feeling touch, but nowhere the same as before.

do i prefer it now? or the ignorance of myself 2 years ago? i can no longer tell. but yet i know, today is a new day, and the sun is a little brighter, and my tea is a little sweeter, and my clothes fit a little better. my once annoying questions are now all answered without hesitation, and your silence has become incessant rambling in my ear as i attempt to sleep once more, and succeed with you at my side. you constantly say how much you wish we lived together, mentioning sometimes to me how you look forward to raising little ones with me, and how the lego set i made of your family is missing someone: me. you feel jealousy i watched a gameplay without you, and that the person i am texting is not you. the irrational jealousy i felt with you is now a little joke between us. shutting down at your words is no longer an option, when you are there to listen and communicate like i had once dreamed.

i miss you, without my heart pounding out of my chest in anxiety. i love you, without seeing my pupils dilate in the mirror. i can await your text, without feeling my lungs never able to complete a breath. my love for you has decreased, yet normalized. for once, in my pathetic, sad little life, i can love someone normally.

you and me, me and you. seldom seen apart. i wish it could stay this way forever. i know it will not. a girl can dream, cant i?

[watery-pancake]

like you

i see your activities, even if we haven't spoken in months. leader of a board, groups of friends who are waiting their turn to spend time with the great You. gifted type of intelligent, the same genre i've been titled, but yet these clothes fit to your form, and my curves jut them out in every wrong way. a weak source of family like i. little money like i. too much to say like i.

i see your family, how they look at me like you could have become me in another lifetime. my awkward charm, but yet the grades and productivity to show i am more than this form. i wonder if you share my jealousy. we walk in public, and encounter an interaction. i fall apart, the wind has blown my hair the wrong way, my clothes aren't sitting correctly, my voice box has broken. i am a mess. and yet you know exactly what to do and what to say. i say nothing, i just look at you for answers like a stupid child. i have panic coursing through my veins, my script hasn't been written, my plastered 'outsiders' mask has not been properly strapped on yet. and you speak with oil in your voice, ever so smooth and light to the touch. they envelop me, and this interaction passes by.

i see how you looked at me. my life seems so put together, doesn't it? a lover to love, a family i am capable of tolerating and avoiding, my gifted child syndrome you knew has grown into a functioning adult. Perfect Me, who keeps her hair clean and tidy. Perfect Me, with my big girl job and big girl activities. I can never stop looking at you, when you talk to me. Conventional attractiveness is light years away with being able to have you speaking to me about your special interests. Years and years have gone, and you've only seen me at my most vulnerable once. And once again, due to my family being my family. Would you believe it that a simple 6 weeks after the anniversary of my father's passing I was thrown out of my home, after being verbally abused for years for it being my fault? Would you believe the things that he did to me? Would you believe if I told you the things that run through this endless maze of a mind? You show jealousy towards my 'exciting' life, but i could not be more jealous of you and your calm, peaceful life.

All these connections, I envy them. Envy will be the death of me, since I can never look into my own life and feel joy. I want the mundane, the seeing movies deep into the night. The silent winters where the only warmth is from a Marlboro Gold. The times after work where, for a brief moment, nobody in my life knows exactly where I am. I am invisible, I am at peace. No one to yell at me, no one to call me names, and more than anything, no one to look at. For it is when I can see who I can compare myself to, I fall apart. I am but a simple standing empty can. My materials are weak to bend, and a simple breath can collapse me. I envy all of you, so deeply. I can only walk forward on my two human legs and one artificial.

[watery-pancake]

2 feet away

it's morning again, and i'm making breakfast. two eggs, some sour cream, and some toast. the usual. it's fall, so why not a latte? i begin to brew one. i crack an egg, and so follows the second, and before i know it, the sliminess has slipped the shell onto the floor. it's so close, but so far.

the fire has begun. it slowly heats up my mixture. the fire rages to cook the toast. i lower the temperatures.

there is no surface to grab onto. the stove is hot, and the handle to the oven is too far down, even with my limited height. i attempt to stoop over, but the pain has reached its breaking point. i cannot pretend to be normal again. i attempt to crouch, with my spine straight. the bending of my knees tug the strings inside me taught, and i fall backwards. collapsed, over an egg shell. i lay on my dirty floors and see the dusty ceiling above me. so far, but so close. i can reach, but i cannot sway.

the egg shells are beside me, i can angle my arms in a way to grab them. i roll myself to my side, then to my chest, and pull myself back up. my composure is still, for this is my reality. my destiny, since the first time i felt the sting in this weak body of mine.

i throw out the shells. i have no use for them here. my coffee has brewed, awaiting milk. my toast is burned, and my creamed eggs are an omelet. i flip it to its other side. i scrape off the carbonized section to see a golden shine.

i sit down, and feel the sting again. my right leg is a nuisance, nothing but pain. a coffee, some eggs, and some toast. at this point i've exhausted myself and lost my appetite. i throw out my breakfast, to retrieve my coffee and a cigarette. i subtlety wish the inevitable cancer would kill me before this pathetic body is nothing but a pile of flesh, but yet i still enjoy the sensation of this simple beverage's warmth trickling down my burned esophagus, and the breaths i take in this cool air.

i lay in bed. my coffin, where i will be in life and in my final resting place. the shells were so close, but so far. in this age i am meant to be running in parks, causing trouble in bars with friends, working hard in my education to secure my future. but for pathetic me, i am in bed again.

what could have been grazes my fingertips, gently caressing the skin. but it never allows itself to become too close. it teases me, seducing me into believing my efforts will be rewarded. i fall into its temptation, my mind cleared of stresses and i delve deep into its caresses. before i know it, i'm awake to reality again.

two egg shells, two feet away.

and yet i ever fooled myself enough to believe i had a chance.

[watery-pancake]

why am i so hard to show kindness towards

[watery-pancake]

cycle of abuse

it never stops being funny to me. you can never escape abuse once it happens to you, even a single time. you will be abused your entire childhood, and once you're an adult and you think you've finally escaped, you're so used to being abused that the people you think you can trust turn out to be the same way. these habits that once terrorized you now just seem comfortable. it happens so many times that you normalize these habits. even when you think you can finally trust someone, that this person will be the one to break you out of it, they just learn your sensitivities to weaponize it against you. you begin to be distant towards other people, when you used to hate it happening to you.

you can never truly escape it

[watery-pancake]

voicemail

hey, sorry for the call out of nowhere. i know its been a while, a while too long at that, haha! weather must be nice in colorado, huh?

...

anyways

...

ok look. it just seems weird to me. how you can do it like its okay. just talking to people out of nowhere. you meet a person, and you speak to them like how we used to talk. like i was just another character in your movie. how do you do it? just... talking to people?

...

i don't know... its just so weird to me. you know how i was raised. my parents weren't exactly there when i needed it, my brother only being there just to punish me when i did something wrong. it was really nice, to have you around. you were someone i could rely on. the thing is, since the last time we've spoken, i realized how different we were. i see a person and i just think about all the ways they hate me and want nothing to do with me. even at my job, that requires me to talk to people, i just feel worthless and annoying. how do you do it so easily? just, talking to someone? asking how their day is, bringing up a random topic?

...

remember when we used to meet up before class, and we'd just talk? it was always the best start to my day. even if id wake up and get yelled at AGAIN for doing SOMETHING wrong. at least seeing you was something i could look forward to, you were the most consistent person in my life

...

i wonder if you still think of me, like i think of you. my first best friend, thoughts of friendship and platonic love. it's been 6 years now, huh?

...

...

...

sorry. fuck. this is so weird. its so weird isnt it ahahaha

...

sorry. im so sorry. i know im being weird again

...

...

...

...

anyways, tell ant i said hi. xiana too. tyler as well. mom and dad...haha its been so long i cant even remember their names. sorry....

...

...

...

...

...

take care. hope you're doing well. you know ive only ever wanted the best for people, even if they did me wrong.

...

i hope the best for you

...

*click*

[watery-pancake]

tonight i wonder

do you think the rain feels the touch of the ocean when it falls, and the ocean feels the warmth of each grain of sand, and that the rocks in the sand feel themselves dissolving with the crashing waves until it is reduced to its simplest shape? that the rocks once strong become such grains, and such sand breaks down into the ocean, and finally evaporates into the rain it once was? what choice does the rock have but to wait for its inevitable destruction, but sees the beauty of rebirth. into ocean to stone, the stone can never return to what it once was, but perhaps its happiest this way. to change is to change, and to rise above is to be broken down first. nothing can stop the natural order, and perhaps thats how it should have been. perhaps i am the stone being broken down, and my rebirth into normalcy it only a step away. my rock is hidden deep within a chasm, that no one cares to find for its useless value

[watery-pancake]

recently ive realized just how bad my memory has become from smoking weed, so i finally decided enough's enough. finished my last edible, hit my pen for the last time. it's come to the point where even the most basic memory recall is a struggle for me. the other day i started panicking bc i couldnt find my phone... while watching tiktoks

however, the problem still arises with my crippling anxiety and neverending thoughts. nothing can stop my brain. so i resorted to the last thing i would normally do: exercise. i say last thing bc normally w my brain it literally petrifies me to the point that ill be physically unable to do anything. my mind is being rotted by how terrible the thoughts are, even when i try to distract myself they just come back. ill be laying in bed, my fingers and toes cold as ice, stuck with the heavy feeling in my chest as if im on the brink of a heart attack. stuck, paralyzed in my bed. my tomb until the waves pass

the other day i borrowed a weight adjustable kettleball from my brother. 20lbs for now, if i remember right. my original plan was to just use it to help with the pain in my left shoulder since my muscles are more than likely atrophied from the sheer amount of time ive spent in my bed in pain.

its so fucking hard to exercise when my spine is screwed in place with titanium, my lower spine has a curve, and my thyroid disorder removes all my energy. no workout i could find was helping

the other night i had another anxiety attack. in my bed, crippled once again. i used the kettleball, and the blood flow helped. did some core workouts on my old yoga mat, and it helped even more. did some stretches, and i was all right. laid in my bed, and right before i could sleep it happened again, and i repeated my routine.

its so funny to me. it was on this same yoga mat i found out i had scoliosis. my mom bullied me for years that the pain in my back was just from weight, so at the ripe age of 10 i started dieting. it was only when i bent over on the yoga mat that she saw how fucked up my posture was. it feels like yesterday she was angrily pleading with me to just straighten my posture. it never straightened, even now. all that weight i gained was never my fault either, it was my thyroid disorder forcing me to gorge myself until i felt like throwing up, and still feeling unsatiated. hungry.

it feels nice to find a new habit that works for me. a healthy one, at that. finally i have something that can help with my pain, mental and physical. mostly mental lol. its nice. next step: finally quitting nicotine for good. not "quitting" but frfr quitting. not a couple puffs a day. not a puff a day. nothing. no more lies. im getting off nic, and improving my health. i want to be able to look at my lover, my family, and my friends and finally be honest when i say "ew no i dont smoke". i WILL get better!!!!!!!!!!!!

[watery-pancake]

1:47 am, i have a morning shift

thought ab the best comparison for bpd imo

its like imagine youre studying for an exam and you put on white noise in your headphones to rlly focus. youre fine, chillin, living life, then suddenly your playlist changes to some loud distracting music. it starts off very quiet where you cant even notice it, but then it just gets louder and louder to the point that you cant even pay attention to what youre studying. you try to lower the volume but it doesnt decrease. it just gets even louder. you try to take off your headphones, but your hands are shaking too much from how loud the noise is that its physically impossible. you can't study, and you have to sit there with the music blaring into your eardrums until the next song comes up, but you don't know when that is. the music never stops blasting until a friend stops by and helps you out. by the time they take the headphones off, you look so uncomfortable that they look at you disgustingly before leaving. and they never let you explain what happened, they just see you in such a shaken up state and think how stupid you are for not just changing the song or taking off the headphones. you feel weird, and can't study. you fail your exam, and its only when you can get a better grade that you can feel better.

[watery-pancake]

another doodle

[watery-pancake]

I keep coming back

i keep trying to find distractions but im always in the same cycle. i worked 12 hours a day for months but nothing can distract me from my habits. vaping for a head rush. smoking until i can feel the air. i bought 3 vapes and all i can think is regret regret regret regret. i cant tell my bf because he'll just be so mad at me for being so stupid as to fall back into my addiction and yell at me. the hardest part of addiction is having no one to talk to about it and offer me comfort. im all alone. i broke when i sat down and realized i had 0 reason to quit other than to avoid my bf yelling at me to stop. he doesn't yell. its the air becoming thick and him speaking to me in a lower, condescending tone. talking to me like i am a child who broke a glass when warned not to play around with it. like i am stupid enough to fall into addiction and as if its something i choose. i didn't choose to be prone to addiction. i knew it would happen since its so generational. but yet i still tried it once, like he did. i knew as much as he does with how he DOESNT fall into it.

i did this whole stupid fucking internship and on the day of my presentation. my whole team is just terrible. i left early and no one except my friend on the team even noticed. i skipped the final day and the same reaction. i constantly bother this team and give them good ideas but just like every fucking woman in stem i just get told im wrong and this man who repeats the same thing i just said is correct and it was his idea. i walk away from this internship with 0 experience since i was dismissed so much. thats a lie. until i was dumped with completing the whole thing in the final weeks. i memorized the code top to bottom but yet i am toyed like i am a doll who knows nothing. as if i didnt fix the bug tormenting us since the start of this internship.

then its just back home. no internship. little hours from my job. and i am at home again, unable to sit down due to my severe pain. damnit. damnit. DAMNIT ALL.

[watery-pancake]

In this family of 3

There's only room for 3, my mother, her ego, and her love, my brother. It makes sense why we naturally moved on after my father's passing, since then it was three finally. Everyone hated him, since in my immature mind I always believed in my mother, and never questioned how he would magically find out about everything wrong we did. I never questioned why my mother told him about my brother's subpar grades, sending him into a rage.

I always tried to be the perfect daughter. 4.0 gpa, no friends (how my parents liked it), no social life, and always at home. The first break was getting my own personal laptop. No longer was I at the mercy of their punishment. I was simply able to exist in my own space, undisturbed. I miss it, feeling rebellious for merely playing games with online friends.

Somehow, no matter after what, she would find something to start hating. Hated the way I put water to straighten my hair in the mornings. Hated how ugly my eyebrows were, never questioning why I always said the sensation of hair makes my skin crawl like bugs on me. Hated how I walked. Hated how I had to awkwardly bend over due to my spine issues. Hated how I sounded when I cried. Hated everything I did. It was easy, to pick on me. I never said anything for years and eventually just broke. Ah, my teen years. I miss them sometimes, the fire that would never die with all the decade's worth of fuel that was pumped into me.

I'll never understood exactly what God I must have pissed off so badly as to give me a life like this. Constantly in pain with my spine. Constant mental issues due to my terrible hormone health. Constant insecurity with the weight gain of my thyroid disease. Unable to form healthy relationships due to my traumatic bullshit past. Unable to make friends due to crippling anxiety from both my parents and experience with 'friends' dropping me at the tip of a hat for someone more interesting. Unable to breathe normally due to my obscenely large breasts. Unable to walk due to my joint problems. It's all I am. Just constant disabilities holding me back.

It fucking sucks. I just wish I was normal, plain boring. Men like a boring impressionable woman. It would be easier to live and just exist. I could have friends. More. I could be able to handle them.

[watery-pancake]

To becoming a woman

When I was younger, men were so much less direct. Once in the supermarket, I was cornered by a man, in front of mother, behind his wife, and he came very close to me and stared into my eyes. I never returned.

Before that, it was always asking when I'd turn 18 already and to give them a call. This was during the pandemic, working at my father's restaurant, with him at my side. They laughed, so I feigned one too.

Now, at an internship I had to be at the top of my class to enter, I am ignored, cast aside, and asked my future plans with regards to having children. All my years of hard work and planning. To be ridiculed.

I am truly a woman in STEM.

[watery-pancake]

tomorrow

i will be going to pick up my things

i tried calling you

straight to voicemail

i should take the hint

shouldnt i?

ive spent the past couple days

a drunk mess

i plan to buy more tomorrow

i finished half a bottle of bourbon

in a couple days

i want your kisses

i keep imagining us

in your bed

cuddling

i run my hands through your hair

i dont know if its over yet

not like you'll tell me anyways

its always a game with you

and ive finished playing

i miss you so much

ive never loved someone

like i have you

[watery-pancake]

ive been ghosting, ghosting alone

so its over i guess

naturally ive gotten drunk

sent a petty message

3 days no response

and here i am

drunk as if i'm sad

do i miss your attention and love

or do i miss you

do you miss me

or do you miss my attention and love

i lie and say i dont care

you post a picture

two beautiful crepes

i say

hope you enjoy your new girlfriend

i hope you do secretly

if you cheat again

it would make sense

and yet here i am

sad and drunk alone

missing you

how pathetic, you would call me

you would believe im in the wrong

which makes sense

you always do

idk why im writing it in poem style lol

my thoughts are going too fast

while drunk

to make a paragraph

good thing i have two jobs

and some friends

to distract me

from thinking

of you

how pathetic am i

it was my favorite song

i mentioned to you once

ghosting by mother mother

you said it was a shitty song

then i hear you humming it

every time we are together

and yet it doesnt make up for it

all the times

we have sex, you go on your phone

we have sex, you play a game

we call, you go on your phone

we call, you play a game

like the slut i am

how pathetic am i?

still missing you

as i type this

wanting you to text me back

just to ignore you

because at the end of the day

i wouldnt marry you

but i still dream of it

when you break your porn addiction

when you break the social media addiction

you find disgust in my smoking addiciton

but look at you

its easier to judge from your point of view

but you always make the mistake

and forget to look at yourself first

you always forgot

to look at me

haha

and yet i miss all the little moments you would

even in the dinner

you purchased to appreciate my work for you

you couldn't wait until after

to call your parents

in the middle of that dinner

you couldn't wait to look at your phone

in your grandparent's home

after disgusting sex

you couldn't wait for a distraction, a game

and when i ask for affection

you treat it like a chore

and yet i still sit here

missing you

how pathetic, right love?

[watery-pancake]

breaking the cycle

we text everyday

and call every night

but it was until the other day, when i talked for so long. you never even gave me a response, or acknowledgement. you never apologized, until i was the one to bring it up. the next night, we called for 4 hours, and the entire time you played games. i doubt you ever even noticed when i muted myself. not like it makes a difference, since you ignore everything else i say anyways. ive been distant, but i doubt you'll reach out to ask what is wrong. or even care how i feel.

i realized it when showering. when i was trying to sleep. when i brush my teeth, and when i put on my shoes. you never really cared about how i feel, did you? it makes sense why every argument turned the way it did. i made the mistake of talking about how i feel so you could understand, and every single time it resulted in you getting so angry you'd say something you regret. the only reason you even reached out to me every time was just because you missed the attention and love i gave you. not because you felt guilty or whatever.

we were with my friends and i cut the cake, and i cut the cake for everyone. there were no plates left for me. all you said was to remind me to cut a cake for the parents. you never even noticed i had to go get my own plate for myself. it was my friend who noticed and apologised and felt dumb for not getting enough plates. i felt more sympathy from a friend than you.

every single time after sex, you just go on your phone. i never really minded, since when i asked you said i could cuddle with you and we could look at memes together. but then, now you just hop on games after, leaving me to clean my mess alone and lie on the bed. just like my ex did. if not that, then you would just scroll on your phone and not even acknowledge im there for another couple hours if i didn't say anything. even when i brought it up, you never did anything.

you promised me you would change. and you lied.

so why should i text. why should i call. like i miss you?

when we text, you just want to talk about yourself and couldn't care less what i have to say. when we call, it's about me watching you play games or listening to you talk, but once i do, you just scroll on your phone when i talk or play games. even if you try to tell me that you want me to talk about what's wrong, what's the point? same cycle, you do something shitty, i bring it up, you argue with me and turn it into my fault. i defend and explain what i felt, you say something you regret, and i hang up. then after a couple days, you miss my attention enough to give an on- the- spot apology. then i naturally forgive, and we 'move on'. and by moving on, you continue the same thing, and i love you less. because i never forget it. and you never make an effort to improve on your shitty habits. so why the hell should i even bring up what's wrong?

what, like it'll change anything?

i dont get why i keep coming back. the hopeless romantic that always believes in the love you state you have for me? its probably what you just saw in your ex anyways. you hate my culture, since you make fun of it at every chance. you hate how i was homeless, since you love to remind me every time i say i like any food. you hate how thin my hair is, since you love to bring it up. you hate all my hobbies, since you call all of them dumb and point out every single flaw in them. god forbid i enjoy anything. you hate how smart i am, since every time i make a slight mistake you use it as a chance to make a dig at it or use it to weaponize against me. a slight mistake is overblown every. single. time. you hate how i have no good support system, since what am i supposed to do? go to my boyfriend for love and support and comfort? what an idiot right.

you say you love everything about me, but actions speak louder than words. and im tired of excuses. you just don't like me. you like my attention and what i do for you. you don't like ME.

you know my deepest secrets. you know i've never found a good love. but yet you continue to never be it. never be the one i can lean on. i have no one to lean on. no one i can be vulnerable with. no one who can support me and take weight off my shoulders.

i'm tired of it all.

[watery-pancake]

i cant tell my own emotions anymore

do i want to break up?

will i be happier without you?

or am i just depressed

as ive always been

feeling like a burden

feeling unloved in our hours

where you scroll and play games

and i sit there like a slut

used for my body then tossed

i hate to say it

and its burned into my memory

its just like him

sex then forgotten

like a used towel

our time spent together

i may as well not be there

you text me less

then get annoyed

when i recognize your ringing phone

when im right there

do you have nothing to say?

do you not notice it

when im muted for hours

only to unmute when acknowledged

as if your mere existence

is to be celebrated and appreciated

but what about me?

2 hours on the bus

1 on the train

just to lie in your bed

as you laugh at instagram

and struggle at hades

and after being used

you hop onto a game

and when i ask for comfort

you get confused

since we'd cuddled for an hour prior

but after we fuck

im not worth your time

or attention