i do not hate you.
i just refuse to meet your eyes and refuse to answer your questions, and it's because if you did, you might see this jelousy i can't describe.
i'm just whispering when you can't hear me, and pretending i don't hear you, and pretending i don't care.
i'm not crossing out your name, or crossing your line of guilt, or blaming you for what i've done. i won't lie to you and tell you that you don't deserve it, or that i would give anything to break your legs, or that even though i don't care it's not me, i hate that it's you. but that doesn't mean i don't want to.
but i do not hate you.
i do not miss you
i'm just listening to that song, over and over, and closing my eyes, and pretending you miss me too.
i'm just carving your name into my arm, so i don't forget you're alive, and carving my name into the other, so i remember that i'm not.
i'm ripping apart your paintings and forgetting your name and letting you destroy me without even knowing it.
i'm not calling your name and making you suffer and killing that part of me that's left inside you. i'm not wishing you ill, or crying at my tombstone, or making you remember what you did to me.
but i do not miss you.
i do not love you.
i'm just wishing you were here, instead of wishing you the best.
i'm making paper children, drawing them happy faces, just like mine in the morning.
i'm just pretending you're here beside me, just so i don't feel alone, and pretending it's you when the phone rings, and pretening you notice me when i know that you don't.
i'm just telling you you're amazing, and telling you you're fantastic, and telling you you're perfect. and my voice is just too quiet, so i know you'll never hear me.
i'm not calling you to hear your voice, and watching you from the shadows in which i reside. i'm not going to rip apart our paper children, even though it's not fair that paper boys and paper girls can be happy and i can't.
but i do not love you.
Right?
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