I wish deep down that I never had the pleasure of meeting you.
Heartbreak. Confusion. Distress.
You. Are. A. MIGRAINE. Your fire boils my water - in all the wrong ways.
Yet here I am, still steaming, fuming by your side. I'm not sure it will
last much longer. I am afraid of letting go. Terrified; nervous even.
But by mid-year's end, it will all be a thing of the past.
Screaming only hurts my lungs. Metal merely cuts my skin.
Nothing can comfort me and you are not here to scold or chide.
So my unsuspecting target gets punched - until the feathers
fly around the room, tickling the senses and aggravating my lungs.
The painful throbbing that jabs into my temples is all because of you.
Your selfish infuriating habits and disregard to the sensitivities of life
cause me unbelievable pain. Ugggggghhh!
My poor poor pillow- now an empty shell, no longer able to comfort my
resting head. It sits there beside me, unlike you, and stares at me
with black mascara stains...memories of this frustrating relationship
just waiting to be etched into my mind.
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