I miss you every day
In every way
there is to miss someone
I miss you
I’m losing pieces of myself
Like fucking bobby pins
I sit next to you in the park
And feel the English summer breeze’s slight chill
Brush against my pimpled skin.
I look at you,
The same way you might look at an old photograph.
You can’t remember when it was taken,
And you wish you wrote it on the back like your nan used to,
When she was your age.
His face is one of someone you used to know,
Their name isn’t important anymore,
But you remember the way they laughed,
The way they held their head when they were sad,
And how they’d always say goodbye twice.
Almost as if it was for luck
My glass was always half full,
Until you decided you were thirsty.
I didn’t realise I wasn’t on your mind anymore,
I didn’t realise I wasn’t the one you think of before bed,
I’m not sad,
It’s a strange sort of sad,
Like wet clothes,
It’s uncomfortable but not unbearable,
It’s there and you can feel it weighing you down,
But it won’t make you tired enough to have to take a break.
It’s hard to decide if I should go home and change or just walk around a little longer,
And just dry off.
Maybe this is it,
Maybe this is just what letting go feels like,
Maybe it’s meant to feel like removing splinters,
Maybe it’s meant to feel like removing a part of you,
Maybe it’s meant to feel like when you get your tonsils taken out,
Maybe it’s meant to be painful
Maybe mum was always right;
Maybe “If it stings; it means it’s working.”
The lights in my room are off,
The summer night throws a blue glow
Across my bedroom floor,
I’m lying in bed,
Doing not much really,
My thoughts feel like hand grenades,
My hands are shaking too much to pull the pin,
The pin is so small like a sewing needle,
Like the sewing needles, I used to sew into my hand in design class
Like hurting yourself was something to pride yourself on
A philosophy that has landed me with so many long sleeves
Long sleeves in the summer feel like picking up a hot mug with no handle.
No handle is what I have on my thoughts right about now,
Right about now it’s twenty past ten and I have work tomorrow
And I’m so tired and I’m so tired and I’m so