You

You're not with me and yet, you are.

You're in every fucking Michael Buble song I hear. And I know it's weird because the song is sappy and happy and cheesy but, here I am, sulking in a corner.

You're Luther Vandross, singing you'd rather be with me even during the worst times than be with someone else in the happiest of days.

You're Stephen Bishop, promising quiet walks, dreams and the world...

You're Usher, urging me to come back, singing how you miss me and how you're sorry and how you want me back...

And with every note, the memory of your heart beating against mine comes up. And all these songs I once loved, all these songs we once listened to together just cuts and breaks my heart.

Every note.

Every beat.

Every time.

Basically

Basically, I'm a cool type of human being.

I don't need to be appreciated.
I don't need to be valued.
I have no need for validation.
Or acceptance.
Or a sense of belongingness.
Or, much more, love.

'Cause, basically, I'm that cool kind of human being.

sunsets and skies

I love you in the sense that I will always remember you when I see sunsets

the fire in your eyes as orange as the sunset sky when I told you we would not work out

the skies' faint flickers of red when I felt the blood trickle down my wrists when I unwillingly let you go

the lamp posts' yellow lights as bright as the sun that blinded me when I walked down the street to your house in the middle of the night

the pale, white clouds floating lifelessly on the sky, as lifeless as I was when I realized I had lost you forever

I always remember that sunsets signifies endings, and I remember how 'us' saw its last sunset

it was beautiful,
you are beautiful,

but this feels like hell.