You seem cold.

I’ve been this way for years.

You’re too young to say that.

I grow faster than most people expect.

You seem tragic.

I was born with it in my veins.

You’re awfully pessimistic.

I’m never disappointed this way.

You have scars on your wrist.

I used to be sad.

You’re not anymore?

I’m not as bad as before.

You look at him like he put the stars in the sky.

I believe he’s magic.

You’re more innocent than you let on.

I have to hold onto something.

You don’t have to pretend to be strong.

I won’t be pretending one day.

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Cry

She will cry,

She will cry over you like there is no tomorrow,

She will cry until her throat is raw,

And until her hair is a mess.

Her screams will echo through the walls,

And there will be nothing beautiful about it.

 

She will tear out the pages of her notebook that she dedicated to you,

And swear that your name will never again appear on the crisp pages that are so important to her,

But two days later the words won’t come,

And she’ll find herself sprawling your name over and over until the ink blurs and merges with her tears.

 

She will curse you,

And curse herself,

And curse the skies for everything,

And for nothing.

 

There will be days when the sun shines,

But all she can see is rain and clouds,

And days when she won’t see anything at all.

 

And fuck,

She will love you even though her heart is breaking,

Because she gave you a part of herself,

That you refuse to return.

 

But know this,

She will also learn to forget you.

 

So when she walks by you in two months time,

Laughing and smiling without a care in the world,

You will wonder how she slipped through your fingers,

And she won’t care.