She thinks I’m depressed because we broke up,
And I laugh every time she brings you up because she’s not wrong,
I try to giggle loud enough to drown out the thought of you, to wash away all the memories I have, to simply not remember
I wouldn’t have to force myself to sleep at night,
Listening to music,
Writing these poems,
Drawing this art,
A collection of things that now can be associated with you,
All of you.
She also thinks I’m pregnant and that’s why my moods fluctuate like the tides,
And a part of me wishes something of you was near,
In me, growing and forming, changing not transforming, merging into you and I
Yet I’m here not even eating, slowly killing this baby that doesn’t existence,
Because if I did, and you were growing inside of me,
You wouldn’t be gone.
I try to avoid mirrors, reasons still unknown to me,
To not notice that when I look at myself you are no longer there,
The blur in my eyes does not create the illusion of your hands wrapping around me,
Gently rubbing yourself against my broken skin,
And so I just walk,
Past everything that could possibly keep the thought of you in my head,
Because, I kid you not,
I think I’m going mad.