Vent

As you got out of bed today did you ever stop and think of me? When you saw the greeness of the grass did it remind you of me? Of green being my favourite colour. And if you did think of me, was anger all you could muster or am I being too hopeful and courageous asking if it filled you with longing for our friendship. Am I the only one who feels as though her heart’s going to swallow her whole or do you feel it too? When something happens my first instinct is to tell you, but instead i’m left with memories of our broken promises. i hate a million things about myself yet I still cannot seem to be able to pinpoint where exactly it went wrong, when did it go wrong, when did it all go down the drain? Or did you just wake up one Tuesday morning and decide I wasn’t good enough for you, that I wasn’t worthy of you . Was this all I was worth to you, was this really all our friendship was worth to you? Every day has become a massive chore, the hardest one is waking up at all in the morning .

Getting out of bed feels like im getting ready for war, my own body’s waging a war against me .

There’s a massive hole inside me and no amount of food will fill it, no amount of words will fill it,I know you always hated my long paragraphs,so I promised i’d keep it short, but I cant help it , I have so much to say to you.

Have we actually become this, have we actually become strangers? Do you actually hate me?

Whenever it seems to get better, whenever I think I’m moving on; a certain smell, a certain colour, or a certain action or perhaps a certain taste will take me back to the past where it’s us laughing and everything fits, where everything is all right.