Ficly

bitter reflections on a nonexistent relationship pt II

until a year later
when depression hit again
my scars had healed and my legs were clean
and so i covered them with fifty new cuts
on each thigh

i never told you
though i knew you would understand
it feels like
you would just
try to upstage me

“bitch please
i’ve been on prozac
for five years”

or be angry with me

“are you fucking kidding me
you get everything you want
you have a thousand dollar computer
i have to work to put stay alive”

i’m sorry
i’m sorry
i’m sorry i feel this way
i really am
really
i am
so please
stop blaming me i’m sorry

i just feel so guilty
what do i have
everything
your father is dead
your mother is slightly insane
but she’s trying
and you’re trying
and i wish i could help

i feel bad
i didn’t make you happy when i should have
you pretended like it never happened
did it happen?
did i make this up?
did i put words in your mouth

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