i stopped calling when you stopped caring.

this is three months in the making.
you can't mend what doesn't want to be fixed.
but i sure did try and sew this back together
with my pretty fucking words that you loved so well.
"your attention to detail is superb."
you are the only person to date who found this little leather-bound enchanting.
i sat in that chair and meditated on my life or lack thereof.
i keep revisiting all the moments with you in them.
there was just something about you that made me break my own heart.
i pour these spirits down my throat and hope that they will breathe some life into me.
so much for that.
the slosh of the vodka in my flask is like a battle cry.
i can hear it warring against the sides, the cap - waiting to be unleashed upon my throat.
there are so many mistakes i made, i made my own bed and i understand.
i'm sure you're not blind, not dumb, not ignorant.
i'm sure.
but i'm a sinner, and if i could wash it all off my body...
in the blacklight you can still see all the handprints of my former lovers.
i am marked and marked well.
i am meant to be alone.
i am meant to grit my teeth and groan.
i am meant to pound my feet against the walls in surrender.
i am meant to leave beds in the middle of the night.
all that you need to remember me by is a note.
i am meant to slouch in the shadows of statues,
bleed all my woes at the base and
hope that my blood at His feet will be enough.