I Shouldn’t Be Writing on a Saturday Night, BUT Here I Am

in half
i feel ripped in
and i
am the sentences dont form which makes me sad
although
it is probably my sadness that forces their short endings
and confused lines of conversations

why is it that you think it couldnt matter
when it is the only thing that mattered
in a long line
of things that never made an impact on my life
because there was nothing
and then there was you
a color that marked the difference between then and now
a force that shifted the feeling in my stomach
and changed the pressure behind my eyes

i should not be thinking about the ways you changed me
when at the center of you
and your existence
is the hurt i feel and the way that i cannot change that
it is the disrespect i put myself through
it is the watering down of words
the same words that i pretend to believe in so strongly

within you and without you is the absence of self respect
replaced with self doubt and wired
introspections that lead me in pathways similar to circles
albeit never that clear
i am wandering in the hollow of my mind
because i need to know why
why i wasnt (pretty/smart/funny/clever/endearing/nice/charming/interesting/pretty/pretty/pretty/perfect) enough for you
to even consider me a person worthy
of a slip of the tongue in effort to call an ounce of respect
into my blurred and rapidly declining existence

i have learned so much but i will apply nothing
i would jump through hoops and dig tunnels and crawl my way out of holes
if it meant acceptance
an apology
an explanation or a complete sentence simply regarding the whys
in my head that are constantly screaming

this is a bad place and i dont want to be here anymore

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