I wasn’t what you wanted, or needed.

And for that, I am sorry.

So they leave and you drown yourself in vodka 
or get high
until you can’t feel your own
heart beating inside of your chest because you want to forget
you always want to forget

So you cry a little or maybe a lot and kiss boys who don’t mean a damn thing to you just to get the feeling of them confused with someone else’s taste
but it still hurts
and you always do seem
to end up on your knees
hours later on the floor
of your dimly lit bathroom
with an aching heart
and burning throat

And maybe you’ll throw things out your bedroom window at two in the morning or scream into your pillow
until your lungs feel like
it’ll collapse from lack of air letting out every curse 
every broken promise they have ever given you
because you’re angry again you are always so angry

So you’ll laugh it off
when your friends ask if you’re okay
because you look like shit again
and you’ll smile at boys
even if you don’t mean it not once
and you pretend to be over it
when someone mentions their name
but you know deep down
you’re breaking apart
all over again.